A New Beginning
by Number Ten
Summary: Emma Carson is travelling on the Titanic back to America with her fiancee, Peter Whitman and her baby sister Sybil, to save her parent's company after their deaths. Along the way, the trio becomes entangled in the well known love story of Rose and Jack and the web that ensnares them all. Can their actions help or destroy the lovers chances of freedom? Or will they be too late?
1. Prologue

_All story and character rights go to James Cameron and his film company. The characters that I create belong to me. This is also in memory of all those lives that were lost over 100 years ago and whose story and legend will live on forever._

 _Please review, I love to get feedback_

Prologue

A loud horn broke the silence of the night like a lone voice calling on its people.

Emma Carson sat up in bed at the sound and stretched out. She made her way to the window and pulled back the curtain. Her eyes beheld a beautiful ship ablaze with lights from bow to stern contrasting the inky black night that covered the Southampton port. She couldn't help but smile with pride, knowing exactly what ship it was. It would be a bittersweet trip home, after laying her parents to rest in Ireland. There was enough from the funeral to cover their trip home on a marvelous ship the world had ever seen.

Emma felt a deep sadness whenever the thought of her parents came up. She was now the sole guardian of her baby sister, Sybil, forcing her to grow up quickly. It also saddened her that her sister would not grow up and know her parents as she did. Eighteen beautiful years with the love and support of her mother and father that could never be replaced. Nevertheless, Emma vowed to love and care for Sybil and give her as close to a normal life that she could offer her sister.

She was off to a good start. She was engaged to the most handsome young man life had to offer. Peter Whitman had proposed to her six months ago and she accepted without hesitation. She truly loved him and wanted to be his wife. Their plans for a wedding had taken a backseat to caring for her father and then the death of both her parents. Her mother had died shortly after Sybil was born due to complications and her father followed soon after. Despite the setbacks, the couple agrees to marry as soon as possible so that Sybil would have a loving 'real' family to watch over her as she grew. The couple planned to have children of their own someday, but after Sybil had grown a bit.

The future of her father's company weighed heavily on her mind these days and was one of the reasons that the ship's horn had woken her from a stressed and restless sleep. She was now sole heir and owner of the company, meaning every decision was crucial to the fate of her family's future. She had to be sure to honour her father's wishes and protect what he had built.

The horn blew out again that brought Emma back to the present. As she gazed out from their little hotel window, she couldn't help but be amazed and excited for the journey ahead and a single glance at the ship filled her with hope. For the brief few moments of gazing at the ship, she felt relief and like a child again, staring at something that was so magical and magnificent.

She turned once to see Peter sleeping in their bed, quiet and solemn as if simply pondering what his dream might mean.

She stepped away from the curtain and checked on her baby sister in the adjacent cradle.

Her baby sister's angelic face seemed to glow in the warmth of the bed and beg for Emma to pick her up and never put her down again. She had to protect Sybil at all costs and give her the life she deserved to have. It was a vow she made after her mother passed on and she'd said it again when her father did too. Family vows were sacred and she always kept them no matter what.

Emma leaned down and whispered in her sister's ear

"I promise to love and care for you forever and always"

Sybil rolled over once in her sleep and cooed ever so softly

Feeling a bit better, Emma climbed into bed next to Peter and snuggled close to him.

The glowing ship seemed to be ingrained in her memory and gave her a sense of hope and peace. She heard the horn blowout once more before darkness took her consciousness and allowed her to rest with slight ease.

The words fell on her lips as she fell asleep

 _Titanic_


	2. Chapter 1: Ship of My Dreams

Chapter 1

The water is cold. Unbearably cold. Emma's eyes flutter open as she clings to the wreckage, the only thing keeping her afloat from a very dark and watery grave. She's afraid to look into the deep black void that is the ocean below, ready to suck her down. Her entire body is numb as can be, knowing her hands must be frozen to the wreckage. She slowly looks up to see a mighty ship in total blackness going downwards, sinking into the void of the abyss. Thousands of people are screaming in her ears and she can only watch in horror as a tremendous boom echoes across the water, the sound of the ship breaking in two. The screams become louder and death is so near. Emma's tears freeze to her face as a final ship horn blows out before it vanishes beneath the…

"Emma" a faraway voice calls out to her. "Emma wake up."

Emma jolts upwards in bed, chills all over. She's panting frantically as her face meets daylight and her eyes try to adjust.

"Emma, sweetie what wrong?" Peter asks, blowing his blonde hair out of his face.

Emma looks beside her to see her fiancee's bright blue eyes looking up at her.

"Just...just a nightmare." She pants. "One about a sinking ship."

The ship horn blares across the harbor. Emma shudders again.

"You're just nervous that's all," Peter says, patting her side.

"But it was so real Peter! What if this ship sinks?!" Emma says, going to the curtain a pulling it back to stare at the ship that just last night had enchanted her and made her excited.

"It's brand new Emma, this ship has all the latest and proper safety equipment. They wouldn't let people set sail on it if it wasn't safe or seaworthy."

"Still, you can't help but wonder..." Emma squeaks, closing the curtain again.

Peter gets up and wraps his arms around her.

"It's just the stress of what's to come to Emma. We have a lot to deal with when we get back to America."

"Don't remind me." she groans.

"It'll be okay, I'll be right here the entire time...I promise."

A happy squeal reaches the couple's ears as Sybil, herself wakes up. Her tiny legs kick upwards and she sucks on her fingers. Emma moves to the cradle and stare down at her sister. Her lively blue eyes seem to light up the room and her lovely patch of blonde hair seems to glow in the morning sun. Emma was pleased that her sister looked much like her mother did while she herself looked like her father with blue eyes and chestnut hair. She wanted to be reminded of her mother whenever she looked at Sybil.

"Hello, sweetie." Emma coos, forgetting her nightmare completely to pick up her baby sister.

Sybil squealed again and reached her arms up towards her sister. Although only seven months old, Sybil was quite the individual and an easy child to handle. She slept well and was beginning to crawl on all fours. She was calm or happy most of the time, despite the sadness that surrounded their family. Emma couldn't help but spoil her sister a bit, now that she was her only family left. Peter absolutely adored Sybil as well and both felt their lives would go smoothly after the couple married and made it back to America.

Emma held Sybil over her head and nuzzled their noses together. She kissed her sister multiple times. Sybil responded by kicking her feet and continuing to squeal.

Peter leaned over and whispered in Emma's ear.

"We will definitely be okay."

The small family packed up their hotel room and headed for the docks. They had packed as light as possible, for their trip only lasted two weeks, which consisted of getting to Ireland, laying her parents to rest and getting home. They had little time for anything else and it's not like Emma wanted to do too much after her parent's passing. Her recovery from grief was slow, but Peter was patient. He loved and cared for her, reminding her of the good things that would come in the future. The only thing that made her smile more was Sybil and Peter. Emma also found solace in drawing and painting, a passion she'd had since childhood and something her parents always encouraged her to pursue. She even drew a full family portrait of all of them just before her mother passed. Although she had stopped her passion for taking care of her father for the next several months, her muse left her when both of them were gone. It was after the funeral in America, before they departed, that Peter suggested that Emma draws her feelings out on paper. Draw or paint as many things as she would like, express herself through art. She had started to draw again on her way to Ireland, but all the images were sad and didn't make her feel any better. It wasn't until she saw Peter sitting with a sleeping Sybil in his arms, that she decided to draw them, something peaceful and calming. Something that gave her hope for the future.

The couple hailed a taxi to the docks and they watched as the driver weaves through the hoards of people coming to see the ship off.

"It's like the Fourth of July and Christmas all rolled together." Emma joked. "You'd think the king was coming into town."

"Well, the ship is A Royal Mail Ship. It's got kingship and supremacy in the name. It is the mightiest ship in the world." The driver said, a cigarette rolled in his teeth. "Some are calling it unsinkable and the most luxurious ship ever created. And there will be royalty on board like JJ Astor and his new wife are on here, along with the socialite Molly Brown and the famous Hockley's. Everyone is pining for a chance to see this floating palace. You, kids, are lucky you get to be amongst the first to set sail on her"

"Well, the tickets certainly weren't cheap," Peter says. "Took every last penny of the funeral fund to buy a cabin."

"We definitely won't be rubbing elbows with any of the royalty," Emma adds. "We're only second class."

"Well, I still consider you the luckiest ducks on the planet." the cab driver says, laughing blowing smoke out the adjacent window.

As the cab approached the ship, Emma had to crane her neck to see up where the giant funnels towered over the harbor. Once again she was filled with pure wonder and awe. Never had a ship seemed so tall and glorious to her. She couldn't help but smile as the portholes were the only level with the top story of a nearby hotel. She lifts Sybil up to the window so that her sister could see too. She knew that Sybil would never remember this trip, but it would forever be a part of hers. Sybil seemed to reach out and almost wave at the ship.

The cab came to a halt in a parking lot.

"Last stop." the driver says, blowing smoke into the back. "Exact change please."

Emma paid the man as Peter dug their luggage out of the trunk.

"Clear skies are a good start to a voyage. It's the good type of omen for a ship like this. Good luck to you kids." the driver says and winks at them before driving off.

Peter comes up behind Emma, gazing upwards.

"It's amazing that they could build something this tall." he says.

Emma looks up again and then swallows hard. The nightmare from last night comes flooding back. If something this tall and this massive could float, what would it take and how long would it take for it to sink?

"You okay?" Peter asks.

Emma looks up at him and gives a small smile.

"I'm okay, just wondering how we're going to get our bags to the right pile." she says.

The couple weaves through the large crowd, holding hands the entire way so they wouldn't be separated. They can hardly hear anything over the noise of the crowd. The sounds were eerily similar to what Emma had heard last night. She pushed the thought from her mind and re-adjusted Sybil. peter went ahead to see if they could find where they could put their bags, leaving Emma with Sybil to gaze again at the ship. She looks up again at the ship, only to trip over something and bump into someone else.

"Look out!" someone yells.

Emma held onto Sybil and screams as she fell forward. Her luggage left her hand and she uses what strength she had to hold onto her sister, Fortunately a gloved hand catches her before her face hits the pavement.

"Are you okay?" a gentle voice asks her.

Emma looks up to see a woman's bright green eyes appear worried for her safety. Her face is demure and concerned, covered in fancy make-up. She has on a white and purple outfit on, looking like it costs more than and arm and a leg, and a large hat that completely encompasses her face. Even with the hat over her head, Emma could see lively red curls threatening to pop out of her obvious tightly styled bun.

Emma adjusts herself accordingly.

"Yes...thank you," Emma says.

Sybil squeals and claps her hands in delight.

"What a lovely child." The woman said. She held her white gloved hand out to her, which Sybil eagerly grabbed. "How old is she?"

"Seven months," Emma says, picking up her bags.

"She's beautiful, what is her name?"

"Sybil. She was named after my grandmother who came to this country in 1886 from Ireland and she was the first woman ever known to sail a ship in the Great Lakes and..." Emma stops, realizing she's giving this total stranger her full family history.

"Sorry I..uh..."

"It is perfectly alright." the woman says. She smiles at Sybil."I am Rose. Nice to meet you, Sybil"

"I'm Emma Carson."

"Delighted," Rose says.

Emma looks to get a chance to take a long look at this woman. Her attitude is in no way what she expected from a woman obviously from first class. This woman continues to fawn over her baby sister like there is nobody watching her. She doesn't seem to care that she's in the presence of someone lower than her in social standings. From the ones she'd met, Emma knew that all of them were stuck up old twits who cared little for anything except themselves and money.

She'd met some when her father had parties for his clients. He let her mingle with all the guests and talk to them as she pleased. Emma had full freedom, but she was stopped one night when a woman in a very feathery hat stopped her and told her to run along to the nursery. Emma said that she wasn't a baby anymore and that her mother needed help as the hostess. The woman wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned away in haste. Emma later was helping her mother with serving the drinks that she heard several of the first-class women scoffing and laughing haughtily about how "uncivilized" her family was, to even consider letting a child mingle amongst such important guests. Emma hated herself then and she left the party after helping her mother. Her father came to see her later on and she'd been crying profusely. Her father hugged her and asked her what was wrong. Emma told him everything and her father laughed. He told her to ignore such comments from such shallow women and that the only reason they spoke so ill of them was that Emma had talked back to them, instead of doing what they said. They had so much money they didn't know what to do with it. He mentioned that each one had a stick shoved so far up their asses that they couldn't slouch or move for any reason, and that included to meeting lower class families. He also said that there was less love in upper-class families and no one was ever really happy. He told her that they were more civilized and a lot better off than any of those people put together. Ever since then, Emma either ignored or laughed at the first class, not caring what anyone thought about her or her family. It wasn't easy, but soon it was like riding a bike.

But this girl was different. She wasn't much older than Emma herself. Her attitude, mannerisms and clothes screamed "proper lady" and yet she's tickling Sybil under the chin and acting like her mother. It seemed that the stick in this girl's ass was either smaller or less uptight.

Rose begins to make funny faces, much to Sybil's delight and then she grabs onto Rose's glove, pulling it off her hand completely and sucking on it.

"Sybil!" Emma gasps, trying to pry it from her sister's mouth. She turned to Rose. "I'm sorry, she's always grabbing things and she has quite a strong grasp. Once she gets what she wants, it goes in the mouth."

"It's fine." Rose laughs and tickles Sybil again.

"Rose!" a sharp voice calls out to her. "Rose DeWitt Bukater come on, we must be on our way." Emma turns to see a woman with Rose's hair colour and eyes but with a sullen and pursed expression glaring at them.

When the woman catches sight of them, she grabs the arm of a tall and rather similarly sullen man. He looks rather familiar, but Emma has little time to think about.

"Come along Sweetpea." the man says. "We have to be the first on board before the 'others' come."

Emma's stomach tightens when he said 'others' knowing that he was referring to them. He was just like any other uptight twit, only more rude and definitely cocky.

He reaches forward and took Rose by the hand, guiding her away from Emma and Sybil.

"Uh...bye nice to... uh..." Rose starts before disappearing into the crowd.

Emma stood on the dock, rather shocked at what she just witnessed. She didn't find Rose rude at all, just the company she hung out with.

Sybil looked at her sister and Emma remembered the glove hanging from her mouth.

"Wait!" Emma says, trying to shove her way through the crowd. "Wait Rose! Your..."

"Emma!" Peter calls. Emma turns to see her fiancee running towards her. "Emma come one we have to get in line or we'll miss the boat."

Emma could barely speak, but she let Peter drag her and Sybil to the line leading to second class. in the haste of their movement, she shoves the glove in her coat pocket. Her feelings of foreboding and the nightmare she had comes back again as they walk the gangplank leading to the second class entrance. The officer checks their passports and tickets before directing them to their cabin. Everything looked amazing on the inside, everything fresh and seems to shine. A stewardess leads them to their cabin and gives them the keys.

"I might suggest you go up on deck to see the send-off, it is going to be quite the spectacle."

"Thank you," Peter says politely. Both of them leave their luggage on their beds and go up to the main deck.

They could hardly reach the edge of the rail on deck because it was already flocked with excited people. Peter led them to a spot on the edge of the rail and couldn't help, but laugh. his eyes took in the crowd below.

"Look at all those people down there, they look like ants," he says excitedly.

Emma managed a small smile and sat Sybil on the rail. She felt like a lone statue on a large podium, up high and on display for the world to see. The crowds' cheering was so loud that Emma could barely hear herself think.

The ship gave off several long blasts that startled her. The same sound that the ship made when it slipped beneath the surface. She shuddered and watched as some last minute stragglers rush to get on. Emma still couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

The ship let out a long final blast and it started to jolt ever so slightly. The wind began to pick up her hair and Emma clung to Sybil tightly. The chilly air blew against their faces and the ship let out more long blasts. Peter suddenly grabs her hand.

"Come on. Let's wave, everyone else is waving back!"

Emma took a deep breath in and slowly put her hand in the air.

"Goodbye!" everyone around her is shouting. Some were waving handkerchiefs or their hats out towards the roaring crowd as the ship began to move along, away from the dock.

Emma waved her hand slightly and tried to put on a smile. She could see that Sybil and Peter were delighted and very excited. Sybil, of course, didn't know what was going on, but the smile on her face made Emma feel a little better. She pulled her cheeks up with a wide smile and waved harder to the crowd. A new feeling began growing inside of her, a feeling of excitement and wonder, like what she had felt last night when she stared at the ship all lit up. She gave into her child-like wonder and began yelling good-bye like Peter was.

Ever so slowly the dock and crowd began to move further along, getting smaller and smaller every second. The entire ship seemed to be waving in glee as the ship, the Titanic, the ship of dreams set sail to America.


	3. Chapter 2: Something Different

Chapter 2: Something Different

 _ **This chapter is in honour of Father Francis Browne who is the man who recorded the only known pictures of life on Titanic. Although his interactions with my character are fictional, he was, in fact, a real person and a lucky man to have survived the disaster. He spent the rest of his life doing Titanic-themed talks and was also a war hero. The message he got in this chapter from his superiors was real, I just exaggerated the timeline so it could an ominous feel for my character. RIP Father Browne and thank you for sharing yours and all the passengers' stories through your photos.**_

The cabin is small, but snug, perfect for a family of three. The couple comes in from the chilly weather. Emma puts Sybil in her cradle and gives her some toys to play with as they settle in. Peter opens his suitcase and opens the new chest of drawers to put his things in.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Peter says.

Emma smiles. "Just perfect."

The room was quite beautiful, two beds on top of each other to create bunks on one side of the cabin with a curtain for privacy. Despite being provided with two beds, Emma and Peter preferred to share, despite how scandalous it sounded not being married. There was a couch stuffed with what felt like feathers along the opposite wall, with small porthole windows behind it to show the vast horizon on the starboard side of the was a small cradle next to a beautifully carved wooden desk, something that might come in handy when Emma has to do paperwork. There was a double sink and wash tub between the bed and couch and a screen for changing behind. It wasn't home, but it would be okay.

Emma sits at the desk, sketching the room, trying hard to concentrate. Peter comes in kisses her and then lays down on the bed.

"Feels so new and fresh," he says with excitement. He stretches out on the bed, over the clean sheets and hand knitted quilt and sighs with content.

Emma sighs and tries to smile. She kicks her bag over, trying to concentrate and ends up feeling more distressed and down than before.

Peter rolls over, ready for a nap.

"I'm going up on deck for some fresh air," Emma says. She takes her notepad and pencils with her.

"Okay." Peter murmurs. "Be careful."

Emma shuts the door and starts heading in the direction from which they had come from the send-off. The place looks so new and clean, she's afraid her sadness will taint it.

She passes a few people walking along to who knows where their excitement clearly all over their faces. Emma wishes she felt that way right now, but her dream still haunted her. A sudden flash of the entire hall being under water causes her to jolt and search frantically for open air. The halls seem to be closing in on her and she begins to run to escape. She passes a few people who look at her like she's insane, but at this point, she just needs fresh air.

Emma comes out on deck and sighs with some relief. That nightmare has really gotten to her.

 _It's just a stupid dream._ Emma groans. _But why does it seem so real?_

She walks along the lower class deck, passing the lifeboats as she goes.

Many other people are on deck by now, exploring the magnificent ship and enjoying the afternoon air. Many sit on deck chairs with rugs over their legs to prevent the chilled air from ruining their leisure time. Several children run along the deck, playing with their toys as their parents chase after them. Emma can't help but smile at the little ones laughing and playing. She tries to imagine when Sybil was going to be like at that age. Her tiny feet beating along the ground, her small skirt and blonde locks flowing behind her as she ran to catch up to whatever she was after.

 _She'll be hard to catch that's for sure._

Emma grabs a deck chair and positions herself to get a better view. She spots a man and his son playing with a top. Inspired, she grabs a pencil and opens to a fresh page. The little boy looks mighty intrigued by the small plaything and once the top runs its course, he winds it up again. His father watching his son the entire time.

Suddenly, a strange noise comes from behind. Emma looks up to see a man snapping a photograph of the small scene as well.

"Beautiful day." the clean-shaven man says with a grin. "Figure it's best not to waste it."

The man looks down to what Emma is sketching, but she only has the outline of the bodies done.

"Another great way to capture memories," he smiles, showing a toothy grin. "Little old fashioned, but whatever floats yer boat."

"That's right," Emma says. "Some people just have an eye for taking the time and seizing the moment."

"And others walk right past huh?" the man adds.

"Sad isn't it?" Emma says.

"Quite." the man nods. "In today's day and age, everything needs to be bigger and faster. It's the thrill of the run it is"

"Yes." Emma sighs.

"Especially with those new-fangled cars. Darn that Henry Ford, soon everyone will own one and all our legs will fall off." the man grumbles.

"I hope not," Emma says. "My sister hasn't even used them yet."

"Keep her away from the cars then..." the man smiles.

He looks up.

"Look up there." he raises his camera up towards the sky.

Emma squints in the afternoon sun to where the man is pointing. Sure enough, another, more elderly man in a dark hat and sailor's outfit with a white beard pokes his head out from the upper decks and peers around at the scenery.

"Is that the captain?" Emma asks in amazement.

"Sure is, it's his last voyage before he retires." the man says, his camera making a clicking noise. "Read it in the newspapers I did. Watch fast little lady, this may be your only chance to spot him."

"Are you here for the entire voyage?"

"Gracious me no," the man says, lowering his camera. "I'm just going to Queenstown. From there I'm off to the Jesuit monastery. I was offered a chance to sail to New York, but my associates told me to stay in Queenstown. GET OFF THAT SHIP-PROVINCIAL was the message. Oh, the folks in the monastery, how they love to praise God and keep the rules."

"You're a priest?" Emma asks.

"Why yes I am." the man holds out his hand. "Father Francis Browne, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Emma Carson," she says, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure is all mine my dear and now if you'll excuse me I must be off. God bless you my child on your voyage."

"Thank you and God bless you too."

"May your voyage be a safe and prosperous one."

Emma waves as the father disappears. She turns back to draw the father and son and find them gone. Sighing, Emma turns the deck chair around and stares out at the sea. Crisp and dark blue against the sky, it seems that the horizon line goes on forever. It was a vast and beautiful sight that gave Emma some inspiration.

"No wonder they once thought the world was flat," Emma mutters

She starts to sketch the lifeboats as the sun begins to sink lower, towards the horizon. She decides to go inside and call it a day.

She did feel a little better, having met someone quite nice and actually seeing the captain of the ship, but sadness came back again as it often did.

Emma and Peter take Sybil to the second class dining hall with all the fancy cutlery and china. The meal was quite delicious and simply done. Emma did her best to mingle with the other passengers, who cooed and smiled at Sybil, but she still felt down. Sometimes it was so frustrating to be put through such hardships and everyone expects you still try and be happy. The loss of her parents was like a poison or an evil animal, something that tainted her life, consumed her completely and crept up on her when she tried to be happy. She envied her sister quite a lot, being too young to have everything dumped on top of you and not to remember parents that loved you.

Peter and Emma decide to call it a night since Sybil is getting sleepy. The couple feeds her and tucks Sybil into bed and Emma decides to stay up and read while Peter goes off to explore the ship on his own.

Emma tries to read her book, but the sadness hung over her like a dark cloud. She decides she just tired and despite the nightmares, the dreadful feelings of loss often faded in the night, making her feel a little more comfortable, at least, enough to sleep.

Emma rolls over to douse the lamp light and the ship's horn goes off in the night. A chill goes down her spine as she turns out the light.


	4. Chapter 3: Night of Terror

Chapter 3: Night of Terror

It's a beautiful night out on the deck. The stars are out the moon as full as it can be and the water is a still as glass. The rhythm of the ship is quite soothing and the decks are empty, meaning they have complete privacy. The air is brisk but comfortable. Emma and Peter carry Sybil along for her to see the ship, they hold hands and stare up at the sky.

"They're like diamonds. So beautiful," Emma says smiling. She can remember the nights when she would lay out in the field behind her house of hours, watching the moon rise and the stars come out. The quiet atmosphere often caused her to fall asleep and wake up just in time to watch the sunrise, if her father had forgotten to carry her into bed.

But tonight, Emma no longer feels sad about her parents. It is about Peter and Sybil, not herself. They are here now, looking forward to the future, not the past. The night is so perfect that not even sadness could ruin it.

"Yes," Peter says. "But none of them are as beautiful as you."

Emma puts Sybil down at her feet for a moment.

Peter takes Emma into his arms and holds her close.

"I love you," Emma whispers, her face flushing and her heart racing in her chest. Happy tears fill her eyes and a wide smile spreads across her face.

"I love you too," Peter smiles.

Before Emma can kiss Peter, a strong wind suddenly sweeps past them and the ship begins to shake violently. The couple tries to remain to stand and the waves are splashing the bars. Emma sees out of the corner of her eye, her sister crawling to the edge of the ship as if the violent sudden storm has not affected her. Sybil reaches the bars and doesn't realize there is a gap between the deck and the sea. Her tiny hand goes out...

"Sybil! No!" Emma screams. She rushes towards her sister, tears burning her eyes and her throat closing up. She trips over her own shoe and watches in complete horror when a large wave comes and seemingly grabs her sister, hearing the baby scream the entire time...

"NO!" Emma yells through tears. She turns to see if Peter will help, her there has to be a chance to save Sybil, but Peter has vanished the lights on the ship have gone out, leaving her in darkness. Even the stars have extinguished their light and the moon under dark and angry clouds. The wind takes her hair and clothes, whipping them around in endless circles.

Emma gets to the edge of the deck and peers through the bars, tears streaming down her face. She no longer had any family left. She could hear her sister's cries for help, but the dark water has consumed the tiny child entirely and most likely killed her. Emma has failed her parents and broken the family vow. She looks down at the dark water, black as night, almost like a tomb, which now had now claimed her sister. The water seems to be extremely hungry as if lying in wait for its next victim. Emma can see her disoriented reflection in the waves. She no longer seemed to have eyes and her lips became blood red, smiling grimly. It then lets out a horrific laugh that makes Emma's blood curdle

Suddenly, a giant wave comes up over the rail, the demonic face still in it, laughing harder than ever before and splashes Emma, entering her nose and mouth. She tries to scream but the cold water is suffocating her, the fluid getting into her bones and even her soul. She can feel the waves trying to drag her out into the water. She tries holding onto the bars of the railing, to keep the demonic water from taking her too, but losing Sybil has left her with little strength left. Her hands are cold and stiff, slipping ever so slowly from the cold metal bars.

The dry laughter fills her ears again as the last finger lets go and the wave drags her down deep into the water. The salty water begins filling her eyes, ears, mouth, and nose as if to kill her in every possible way. Suffocate her to the absolute limit. It wants to consume her... There is now silence under the water, small relief from the demonic voice, but her air level is dangerously low and her lungs are on fire. The cold no longer matters, nor does it extinguish the burning of her insides, she's numb on the outside through, with little feeling left at all.

Emma does her best to fight for the surface, do anything to keep this dark water from killing her. She swears she can see the _Titanic_ 's hull, so massively huge beside her. She tries her best not to look down, for if she does, she really will die.

A tremendous boom shakes her all over and the massive dark hull breaks in two. There are sparks and parts of the ship, a mangled and twisted as the bottom half of the ship breaks free and starts sinking ever so slowly into the darkness below her. A stronger force, much stronger than the waves. The suction of the hull is pulling her down. Emma does her best to fight, but in the end, she is pulled deeper and deeper...

Emma jolts up in bed in a cold sweat, her breath heavy and labored. Her heart racing at an alarming pace and her head throbbing. She checks her body and nightgown, she's dry, with the exception of the sweat on her forehead. She gets up quickly and goes to Sybil's cradle. She breathes a slight sigh of relief to see the tiny tot nestled deep in her blankets, sleeping peacefully. She inhales again and her throat is dangerously dry. She goes to the sink and slurps up some water. Her heart rate decreases and the throbbing ceases slightly.

It seems to strange that this water was out to kill her just a few minutes ago and now it's calming her down. She squints in the dark and can see Peter fast asleep, breathing contently beside the crumpled mess of covers she'd left behind. It amazed her that he had slept through it, she thought she might've woken everyone up, had she been screaming and rolling around in such a frenzy. Maybe it wasn't as violent a nightmare as she'd thought.

Emma feels her way to the couch and puts her head in her hands. She lets a few tears crawl down her face and her breathing picks up again.

 _It all seems so real._ she thinks to herself. _I must be going crazy._

It all seemed so very strange, Emma liked the water, a lot. She'd grown up near it and had learned to swim at the tender age of 4. She'd gone fishing as a child and explored creeks and ponds for all sorts of interesting creatures. Boats never scared her either. Her neighbor had owned a sailboat that he would lend to her and her father and they would be spent many happy days, exploring the lakes and rivers. Even on the trip to England and then Ireland, she slept fine as can be, but why now were her fears of being on a boat so bad?

Had it been the telegram that Father Browne had told her about, GET OFF THAT SHIP? Could that have been some kind of warning? Was it caused by the stress and grief she had been experiencing due to her parent's deaths? The stormy sea might certainly explain that. Was she afraid of losing more people that she loved because death had already claimed a few? Was it because this ship itself was so massive that mother nature could easily drag her down to the depths of the ocean? Or that the White Star Line had claimed that _Titanic_ was unsinkable?

Emma takes a few deep breaths and wiped the tears from her eyes. Whatever the reasons for the nightmares, it cannot be a good omen. Dreams were mysterious things and God also worked in unusual ways to warn people about what is to come. There were many things she could not understand and probably never would.

Could this ship really break apart and sink? Would she have set sail if she wasn't safe? Should we get off while we still can? Questions she knew could not be so easily answered.

 _You're just tired and it's the middle of the night,_ she says to herself. T _here's a lot going on and your mind is telling you about it. This ship is perfectly safe and very beautiful, you should enjoy your time here._

Emma moans and her stomach knots up.

 _Just go to bed. Everything is fine and will be better in the morning_. her mind reassured her.

Emma stands up and hobbles back into bed. She pulls the covers up around her to stop her cold shivering and curls up next to Peter. She lays her head near hers and closes her eyes.


	5. Chapter 4: New Philosophy

Chapter 4: New Philosophy

 _All rights go to the owners of these quotes._

Emma wakes up the next morning feeling rather agitated. The nightmare she'd had left her upset all night and she slept very little. She was so afraid that she would dream about seeing the ship go down and the demonic face in the waves. It was if the ocean was mocking her for being such a coward.

Sybil's happy squeals woke Peter up too. Emma reaches over, picks up her sister and cuddles her. Sybil lets out more laughing and reaches for her sister's face in joy.

"Good morning," Peter says, reaching over and kissing Emma on the cheek.

"Morning," she says. "Sleep okay?"

"No different than any other night. You?"

"Wish it were that simple, I had another nightmare."

"Really?" he says, concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I don't know what it is that's making me have these nightmares," Emma says, going to the washtub to clean up Sybil's face. "I was fine until I stepped onto this ship."

"Maybe you're overworked or something."

"It could be, but they're all about this ship sinking... it doesn't make much sense."

"Most dreams don't make a lot of sense," Peter says almost philosophically.

"You're starting to sound like Brian Herbert..." Emma smiles. " _Dreams are as simple or as complicated as the dreamer._ "

"I see it more like Artistole, _Hope is a waking dream_ "

"What kind of hope can I get from a sinking ship dream?" Emma sighs.

" _The mystery of life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced._ " is the answer.

" _Don't base your decisions on the advice of those who don't have to deal with the results._ " Emma fires back.

" _When anger rises, think of the consequences_ ," Peter smirks.

" _I'm only responsible for what I say, not for what you understand._ " She mutters.

" _Some people create their own storms, then get upset when it rains._ "

" _Into each life, some rain must fall,_ " Emma responds.

" _Everybody wants happiness, Nobody wants pain, but you can't have a rainbow without a little rain_."

" _Count your rainbows, not your thunderstorms,_ " Emma says as she dresses Sybil for the day.

"I'd like to _be a rainbow in someone else's cloud_ ," Peter smiles and leans up close to Emma.

" _Clouds the only birds that never sleep_ ," Emma says, leaning on Peter's arm.

" _Sleep is the golden chain that binds health and our bodies together._ "

"If only that were true," Emma sighs, selecting her clothes for the day. " _The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have many promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep._ "

" _Peace is a journey of a thousand miles and it must be taken one step at a time._ "

" _Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase_ ," Emma says, washing her face and going behind the screen to change.

"Yet I love you every step of the way," Peter smiles.

Emma blushes behind the screen.

" _Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others and the delight in recognition_."

" _Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold thy ben_ t."

" _Who could refrain that had_ the heart _to love and in that heart courage to make love known_." Emma quotes, appearing from behind the screen in a light blue dress with a pale frock on top.

" _For she had eyes and she chose me_ ," Peter shouts, getting down on one knee.

Emma can't help but laugh at his display. She curtsies and pretends to fan herself.

"I did choose you. _The best things in life are unseen, that's why we close our eyes when we kiss and dream_. I still believe"

She leans down and kisses her fiance.

Peter jumps up in excitement. " _My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite_!"

" _You have no idea of the amount of happiness you brought to my life,_ " Emma smiles.

"Beauty is not what can be seen, but what can be felt."

Emma gives him a puzzled look. "I've never heard that one before."

"That's because I made that up just now."

Emma smiles and pulls Peter's face towards her. Their lips touch and Emma feels warm all over. All her pain and fears seem to melt away when she's in Peter's arms, safe and secure.

"It wasn't luck that brings two together, but fate and the heart's desire." she giggles.

"That's a good one too." Peter laughs.

She kisses him again before getting Sybil together.

"I'm going to take Sybil to the nursery on the ship," Emma says. "I figure she can make a few friends there."

" _Friendship increases in visiting friends, but in visiting them seldom_."

" _Love is blind; Friendship closes its eyes,_ " Emma smiles. "I'll see you later."

" _Love knows not it's own depth until the hour of separation._ "

" _Long Distance Love, it's just distance, not separation_ ," Emma says, before kissing Peter and walking out the door.

Emma walks the halls with a small bag of things Sybil would need for the day. She finds a stewardess and asks for the nursery. The woman points the way and the two sisters walk down the maze of corridors until they hear the sounds of young children playing.

A nursery is a place of activity. Many mothers, fathers, nannies and children are milling about the room. There are many books, toys, and playthings strewn about the room on a large hand-knitted rug. Little girls with bows in their hair hold dolls in their arms as the sit around a small table pretending to have a tea party. A young boy rolls a small truck along the floor and makes car noises as he goes. A mother sits with her little girl on her lap and reads her a story about a man who fell asleep in a rowboat. A toddler runs around with a duck on a string, laughing as he goes. Several mothers are nursing infants and a nanny chases a rambunctious boy who refuses to put his shoes on, running barefoot around the room.

Sybil's eyes light up when she sees the excitement. She bounces eagerly in her sister's arms. Emma brings Sybil to the center of the room and places her down among the toys. The little blonde baby reaches out eagerly and grabs the first toy she can reach, a small wooden rattle. It then goes straight into her mouth and she sucks on it. She then tries to propel herself along the floor to find something else. She notices the girls sitting in small chairs and wants to join them. Sybil does her best, but she ends up flat on her face. Emma laughs and picks her sister up.

"Maybe when you're older," Emma says.

She grabs a book from the pile on the desk and sits with Sybil.

She tries to read to her sister, but Sybil is more interested in grabbing at the pages to see what they feel like than a cow jumping over the moon.

A woman walks by with a small boy about two years old. The child wears what appears to be a sailor's suit and carries a small stuffed duck. When Sybil sees the boy, she reaches out for the duck.

"MINE!" the boy yells. Sybil's eyes go wide in surprise and she begins to cry.

Emma bounces her sister up and down to soothe her.

"Patrick!" the woman says in shock. "Do not be so rude. She's only a baby. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Emma smiles. "Sybil has a tendency to grab things."

"Well, Patrick will be getting a sibling some day so he must learn to share."

"Sybil too," she says and put her sister down at her feet. The mother makes her son do the same.

"Now share Patrick. She'll give it back."

The little boy reluctantly does so. Sybil takes the duck and puts the beak in her mouth. Emma feels slight guilt in leaving the boy with nothing to play with, so she grabs a stuffed lion nearby and hands it to the boy.

"You can trade later," Emma smiles.

"What do you say Patrick?" the mother says.

"Tank you." he says in a garbled voice.

The woman sits in a chair next to Emma and they watch the two children interact. Sybil seems excited to have a playmate and throws the duck away. Patrick picks it up and Sybil waves her hands to give it back. The boy reluctantly does so. As soon as she gets it, Sybil throws it away again.

Emma smiles and the woman laughs.

"I'm Mrs. Baxter." the woman says, offering her hand. Emma takes it and shakes it.

"Emma Carson. And this is Sybil."

"She's a very lively child, You and your husband must be very happy." Mrs. Baxter asks.

"No, I'm not married, this is my sister. But I am engaged."

"Oh, well congratulations"

"Thank you," Emma says with a smile. "We are very happy."

"My husband and I have been together for three years. Patrick has been with us for two of them."

"He's a very handsome boy." Emma compliments. It is true, the boy has lively blue eyes and bright red hair with freckles all over his face.

"Thank you. He has his father's eyes, but that hair comes from his grandpa." Mrs. Baxter explains.

"The hair comes from my mother," Emma says.

"She'll be a beauty that's for sure."

"Like my mother." Emma sighs.

"You're parents must be happy that you've taken on caring for your sister."

"They would be..." Emma swallows. "If they were alive. My parents passed away six months ago."

"Oh," Mrs. Baxter says in utter surprise and her face turns red. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright..." Emma says quietly. "At least, they're together... forever and always."

"Indeed." Mrs. Baxter says, going quiet as well.

The two look down at the little ones. Patrick is now holding both the lion and the duck, pretending to make them talk, much to Sybil's delight.

"They certainly seem to like each other." Mrs. Baxter says, nodding towards the two children.

" _You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation_ ," Emma smiles.


	6. Chapter 5: A Family History

Chapter 5: A Family History

Emma spends the rest of the day in the nursery. She and Mrs Baxter chat as Patrick learn to play nicely with Sybil. Once in awhile, Patrick would get up and walk around in search of new toys. Emma could see the envy on Sybil's face as all the other children were moving around freely and she was stuck where she was.

Emma lifts her sister up and whispers in her ear.

"Your time will come soon."

Sybil puts a toy in her mouth and kicks.

"So tell me Emma, what brings you onto the finest ship in the world?" Mrs Baxter asks.

"Well, we originally came over to England to go to Ireland and scatter my parents' ashes. You see my father's grandparents immigrated over here from Ireland in what was it…?" She pauses. "In 1834, I think it was and set up a small farmstead out in Ontario, Canada. Eventually, my father's father left the small farm to work in the city, which at that time was not much of a city. He ran his own carpentry business for over 40 years and he planned to hand it down to my father when he came of age, but my father went out on his own to seek his own fortunes. He met my mother not long after he established his own business in the city of New York. She too had come from the green country, except she had lived in New York for more than three generations. Anyway, my great grandfather made his son and grandson promise to be buried in Ireland, to never forget the roots from which we came."

"That's quite interesting." Mrs Baxter says.

"There was just enough money left over from the funeral to get us tickets on this ship."

"You are quite lucky. My husband recently got a promotion at his job in real-estate and his boss was willing to treat us to this lovely cruise to England and back."

"Where are you from originally?" Emma asks.

"We're from Boston, Massachusetts. Our family has been in that town since the Boston Tea party."

"Really?" Emma says.

"Oh yes, several of my husband's ancestors helped plan the protest against the British all those years ago."

"Wow, what about your ancestors?"

"Mine, well... my mother and father never told me very much about their backgrounds, the most I knew is that my great-grandfather was a travelling doctor and he travelled to the African continents. When he came back, he opened his own pharmacy and it has been passed down to the family ever since." Mrs Baxter explains.

"Who owns it now?"

"My brother does, with his sons," is the answer as the mother picks up Patrick to sit on her lap.

"Was he the oldest?"

"No, I was the oldest."

"So why didn't you inherit the business."

"Inherit the... why child a woman running a business?! How ridiculous." Mrs Baxter laughs, fanning herself after the shock of Emma's implication.

Emma turns a shade of red. "I'm sorry, I did not mean any disrespect."

"It's quite alright. I assume that you are one of the "modern" children in society, fighting for women's rights?"

"I try to be," Emma says. "I'm usually not very political, but I think that women can have jobs and a right to vote."

"I see, well child, you see the world is still very much in the Victorian era. The upper crust still owns the world it seems and women are expected to be homemakers"

"Well, that is definitely changing for me because as of recently, I own my father's business."

"Do you really?" Mrs Baxter says, her mouth agape in surprise.

"Yes, my father left everything to me and Sybil."

"I can't imagine such a young thing like you taking on a business. Well, fortunately, you have your fiance to help you."

"Yes." Emma sighs.

"Tell me how did you two meet?" Mrs Baxter asks.

"Well, it was almost two years ago now. My father had just relocated his business to Manhatten, New York and I was quite new to the neighbourhood. I was having trouble fitting in and I kept to myself mostly at school. My mother suggested that I go to a school dance or something fun like that. You see my parents were very willing to let me have my freedom at this age. So I went and I listened to the band in the school gym. I tried to dance, but it is kind of hard to do so without a partner and I knew no one at the time. Anyway, I was sitting on the side like any wallflower would be and I think this is true...as Peter may have exaggerated the details, but he saw me across the room and he swore that everything in the room seemed to stop and it was only himself and me in the room. He came to me and asked me if I was the most beautiful girl in the room. I blushed and he asked me to dance. I was quite nervous and little did I know that he too felt the same way. He twirled me during the around relatively slow song, but I took the lead when it came to the fast songs. By the end of the night, everyone was calling us Isadora Duncan and Danny Kane. He then offered to walk me home and we continued to dance until we reached my front porch. My father was still up as expected, waiting for Cinderella to return and I introduced the two. They shook hands and Peter said that he would love to take me out again. I agreed, stars in my eyes. And I never looked back."

"How lovely!" Mrs Baxter squealed. "Truly a fairytale."

"I did feel a lot like Cinderella that night," Emma blushes. "Except I did not lose my shoe."

Mrs Baxter laughed. "It was so sweet that he asked you if you were the most beautiful woman in the room."

"And she still is..." a voice comes from behind them.

Emma turns to see peter walking towards them. Sybil immediately squeals in delight and reaches out for Peter.

"Pardon me for interrupting ladies, I just wanted to ask if the most beautiful woman in the room would like to go get some dinner."

Emma turns red and blushes. Mrs Baxter chuckles.

"I would very much like to," Emma says. She hands Sybil to her fiance and stands.

"It was lovely to meet you, my dear," Mrs Baxter smiles. Emma extends her hand to the woman.

"You as well Mrs Baxter and to you too Patrick."

Patrick leans into his mother and smiles.

"Can you wave goodbye to Emma and Sybil?" Mrs Baxter asks

Patrick sticks his hand out and waves. "Bye bye," he says.

"Goodbye Patrick, don't worry, Sybil will be back tomorrow," Emma smiles.

"Have a lovely evening," Mrs Baxter says. "If you are ever in Boston, please look us up."

"We will," Emma says. "We'll exchange contact information tomorrow."

"Absolutely, Goodbye now."

"Goodbye."

Emma reaches over and takes Sybil from Peter, she grabs his hand with her free one.

"Still think I'm the most beautiful girl in the room?" she asks quizzically.

"Without a doubt," Peter smiles.


	7. Chapter 6: Drawing a Solution

Chapter 6: Drawing a Solution

Over the next few days, Emma spends her time in the nursery with Sybil. Peter tries to entice her to explore the ship, but she refuses. There wasn't much the couple could do together except visit the library or the smoking room. Any luxuries that were on the ship like the baths, or gym or swimming pool were for first class only. Her nightmares also become worse and worse that she doesn't feel like going anywhere anyways. The other night, she dreamt that she was trapped in one of the fancy hallways and it was slowly filling with water as she tried to escape. It feels like a vicious circle and it is far too late to try and get off the ship. It will be a few more days until the ship reaches New York _if_ it ever does. Emma continues to have extremely bad feelings that these dreams are foreshadowing a coming disaster. The problem is if she said anything, everyone would think she's crazy and never believe her. She does her best to distract herself

The third day of the voyage at sea, Emma is sitting at the beautifully carved wooden desk looking at the stacks of papers in front of her. Peter had taken Sybil on a tour of the ship to give her a change All of them are business issues and there have been a few wireless messages from her father's office in New York. She feels overwhelmed and stressed, such big decisions put on an eighteen-year-old girl who knows nothing about business or how to run such an organization. She mutters angrily about why her father left everything to her and asks God why he had to take her parents so soon. Her mother due to complications of her birth with Sybil, the assumed cause was eclampsia and her father, along with the grief which weakened him, contracted pneumonia after a business trip and was unable to get better. Emma lets a few small tears run down her face as she flips through a business proposal. All this stress was waiting for her back in the city; a part of her was happy to go back home and the other wanted the trip to last as long as possibly. So much was dumped on top of her along the slow recovery from the grief she felt for her parents.

Emma eventually grows tired of reading, shoves the papers aside and grabs her portfolio/sketchbook and coat. She walks out onto the deck and begins a search for something to draw. The wind is picking, up making her shiver and hold her portfolio close to her.

She finds a deck chair, a rug to keep her legs warm and sets herself up, she begins drawing two women having an afternoon stroll on the deck in their fancy hats and holding umbrellas even though there was not a single sign of rain. She's halfway through drawing when a gust of wind picks up and forces several of her pencils to roll onto the deck. She leans down to pick them up.

The wind suddenly catches one of her papers and begins blowing it down along the deck. Emma immediately gets and runs after it. Of all the drawings the wind had to take, it was the picture of her family, the last picture of her family. The page blows further and further until it goes over the rail, down to the lower decks of the third class passengers. Emma does not hesitate to climb over the rail to after her sketch. She does not care if anyone sees her, besides they can't arrest her for going into the lower class. She's becoming tired as she scrambles after the sheet of paper, but it is too precious to let it go.

A handsome man, about 20 or so catches the page in mid-air. Emma nearly runs into him, stopping so suddenly that her portfolio goes flying. Emma gets down on her knees and begins to gather the papers.

A set of hands come down and join her.

Emma looks up into his bright blue eyes. He has dirty blond hair and a youthful face that smiles up at her as he collects the papers. Emma can't help but blush at his dashing good looks. She smiles back.

The man looks at one of the drawings he's picked up and his eyebrows go up.

"This is really good," he says.

"Thank you," Emma smiles sitting on a nearby bench to sort through her papers. The man brings over his pile and sits next to her.

"Thank you for saving that sheet of paper," Emma says. "It's very important to me."

"I know what you mean," the man says. "I'm an artist myself."

"I'm not really a…"

"Hey," he interrupts her. "Anyone that can put something on paper or write some kind of tune or dance to their own beat is an artist in my book."

Emma finishes filing her papers and accepts the ones from the man.

"That's a good philosophy," Emma says. She folds her portfolio back up. "Mine is that 'love is something that can never be conquered and a testament to someone's heart.'"

"That's a good one too," the man smiles. He holds out his hand. "Jack Dawson."

Emma accepts it. "Emma Carson."

"So where are you from?" Jack asks.

"Canada originally until my father moved to New York and you?"

"I travel wherever the wind takes me. I've been staying Europe for awhile and decided to go back to the roots. I'm originally from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, ever hear of that?"

"I think so," Emma says. "In my geography class."

Emma opens her portfolio to and a new page and begins simply scribbling. Jack reaches over and takes out his own. Emma does her best not to pry at the man's sketches, but curiosity gets the better of her. Jack as well.

"May I?" Jack asks.

Emma hands over her own portfolio. "Sure. Want to trade?"

"I'm okay with that…" Jack nods and hands her his.

Emma begins flipping through Jack's pages and pages of art.

She admires his care and detail in each of his drawings. She can't help, but smile by the fact that most of his pictures are of naked women, typical at a young, single man's age. She admires the depth and care he's put into his sketches and she can tell it's his real passion in life. She really thinks he has talent.

"You like nudes huh?" Emma smirks.

"I like to capture the forms of the body. The human body is a fascinating thing, the lines and the curves that make up each individual is quite a challenge. A challenge I enjoy."

"Not because the fact that women are taking their clothes off in front of you?" she snickers.

"It's France, the rules of nudity are different," Jack says.

"They are very good," Emma says. "How did you find a one-legged prostitute?"

"Wasn't easy," Jack smiles.

"Your attention to detail is great, I could never be as good as you."

"I'm not so sure…" Jack says modestly.

He turns his attention to Emma's drawing.

"You're pretty good," Jack compliments her.

"Thank you," Emma says. "I mostly just draw for a hobby."

"I like your attention to capturing motion. You really want to capture the scene in the moment while I prefer to have someone pose for long periods of time. Not a lot of artists are capable of that."

Amongst Emma's drawings were her family portrait, the wind taking away a woman's hat, a church by the seashore which she had spread her parents' ashes, a herd of sheep they saw in Dublin, the picture of Peter cradling Sybil by the fireplace, the unfinished boy, and his father, and the Titanic's lifeboats. There are also some darker pictures in her pile including a cemetery, a crying child, a trickle of blood and coffin covered with a grey sheet.

"Not exactly a Cheerful Charlie are you?" Jack comments.

Emma turns red. "I went through a rather depressing stage, you see I just lost my father a month ago and my mother five months previous."

"Oh," Jack gasps. "I'm so sorry, I didn't…"

"It's alright, I'm still on the mend from it. At least, I'm not alone, I have a fiancé and my baby sister Sybil in this picture here." She points out the picture of Peter and Sybil in front of the fire.

"I wish I was that lucky. I lost my parents a few years ago to a fire that also took my family home." Jack says sadly.

"I'm sorry," Emma says.

"It's alright, I decided to not let life go to waste and left the place where it caused the most pain. I know you're not supposed to run away from your problems but what can you do when there's nothing left. Fortunately, I've my friend Fabrizio to help me through the tough spots. We've been through a lot he and me?"

"Wish it were that easy for me," Emma sighs. "I guess I went through a phase of just drawing darker things, what I was feeling at the time and what was on my mind. It's not like me at all, if you can believe it."

"It happens, but many artists' best works come out in times of stress or sadness, look at Van Gogh or Munch"

"I guess; I've tried to move onto happier things, but sometimes it just comes back to me, like a cloud that never leaves me."

"I felt like that too, but I think you've got some real talent here, don't waste it on sad things. It helped me move on."

"It sort of helps me too, but I've got a lot more to worry about than mourning. I have to go back to New York and raise my sister as well as run my father's business."

"Wow that must be tough," Jack says. He takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one it up. "Want one?"

"No thank you, I don't smoke," Emma says. "So tell me more about yourself, Jack."

Emma and Jack spend the rest of the afternoon chatting with each other, talking about their lives and what they hope for in the future. Eventually, Jack's friend Tommy comes up the third class stairwell.

"Hey, Boyo stop flirtin' with the lass and come on. It's time to go eat, Fabri is waitin' on you and yer tickets"

"I'm coming," Jack calls. He turns to Emma. "I guess I'll see you later."

"It was nice to meet you, Jack," Emma says, shaking his hand.

"You too Emma, remember to try to sketch something nice, capture those moments you really want to remember."

"Thank you, Jack, I will and if you're ever in New York or in need of a job, look me up."

"I will," he says. Emma watches Jack disappear.

The young girl gets up and walks back up the stairs and goes through the dividing class gate. She's walking along the deck when she sees the sun beginning to set over the watery horizon.

" _Capture the moments you really want to remember…"_

Emma finds herself another deck chair and begins to sketch again. She stares up at the beautiful sunset every so often, doing her best to capture the moment before it goes down. She embraces the beauty and wishes Peter and Sybil were here to see it too. The mixture of gold, pink and blue streaking across the sky as the orb of light sinks lower and lower into the ocean. There are birds flying overhead and small waves lapping at the sun. She remembers her father telling her an old folk tale about the sun hissing as it hits the water, she smiles to herself as she watches the scene unfold in front of her. The memory makes her a little bit sad again, making the sunset less spectacular. She still wishes her parents were here with her to see this.

To distract herself she works quicker at her sketch, but still, misses a few of the remaining details. She decides to call it a night and go and find her fiancé and sister. She closes the book and goes back to the cabin

…

The next day Emma tries drawing some of the children in the nursery. She watches Patrick and Sybil play together as Mrs. Baxter chats away and compliments the young girl's skill. Eventually, she takes her sister back to the cabin. She forces herself to look at the paperwork again as Sybil plays on the floor.

Peter comes in with a big smile on his face.

"How was your day?" he asks, scooping up Sybil.

"Alright, Mrs. Baxter did most of the talking so all I really needed to do was listen."

Peter puts Sybil in the cradle and sits on the couch adjacent to the desk.

"What do you feel like doing tonight?" Peter asks.

"Nothing really," Emma admits. "Just stay in I guess."

Peter comes up and kisses her on the cheek. "How about we do something fun tonight?"

"Like what?"

"Like a dance…"

"Where is there dancing on the ship?" Emma asks.

"Third class. A man I met while playing cards told me that they have the best parties on the ship."

"But what about all this paperwork?" Emma says.

"Blow it off, for now, it will only be a few hours. Besides, when was the last time we did something just the two of us?"

Emma looks up at Peter and she can see the eagerness on his face. She had to admit they hadn't had a night out together in a long while, probably before Sybil was even born. She had mixed feelings about it, there was so much to worry about and yet she yearned for some form of distraction.

"Okay," she says. "I'll go."


	8. Chapter 7: All Night Long

Chapter 7: All Night Long

"Are you sure we're not going to get caught?" Emma asks, pulling on comfortable shoes.

"Relax, we're not sneaking up to the higher class, we're going lower," Peter says. "Apparently third class has the best parties around. Music, cheap beer and lots of fun."

Emma swallows hard as she picks up Sybil and began to feed her from a bottle.

"The neighbour next door will check on her every fifteen minutes and she's a mother herself," Peter says, trying to reassure the protective sister.

"I don't know." Emma mutters.

"Come on it'll be fun, what's one night out gonna do to you?" Peter smiles.

He kneels down to Emma's level and takes her free hand.

"You need to get out and spread those wings a bit. You've kept them so folded recently and you've been really down, I think you need a bit of cheering up."

Emma feels that warm glow she always feels with Peter and manages a small smile. If Sybil will be safe, then she feels slightly better.

"Okay."

When Sybil finishes her bottle, Emma, and Peter both kiss her and put her to bed. They shut the door and head down one of the halls. They eventually come to the dividing gate between classes.

"One of the guys in the dining hall told me that this one is always unlocked," Peter says and they slip through.

As they go deeper into the ship, Emma starts to get nervous again. Her nightmares of being trapped down so deep in the ship with water filling it come back and she swallows hard again. She holds onto Peter's hand. They hear a loud ruckus coming down one of the lower hallways.

"Follow the music I guess." Peter snickers.

He pulls Emma along until the fiddle music becomes loud and the cheery sounds of laughter are heard.

A dance floor had been set up in the dining hall, all the tables moved to one side and chairs spread out for patrons to sit. Some of the tables held card players and another had a bartender serving pitchers of beer. People of all ages and nationalities were there, the accented voiced overwhelming each other. The energy was amazing and so lovely. It seemed to bring everyone together.

Peter pulls Emma over to a corner and begins to dance with her. She is slightly self-conscious about dancing in front of strangers, but Peter twirls her a few times. Emma tries to keep the dancing minimal, but she manages a small smile as the music seemed to lighten her mood a bit.

Peter at one point, goes up and dances with another woman, the whole time encouraging her to join him on the platform, but Emma just smiles and claps to the beat.

She eventually decides that she needs a drink and heads to the "bar" area.

"One please," She yells over the music.

The bartender smiles and begins pouring her one out of a Keg. Emma watches everyone dance around, all strangers to her, but they seem so warm and welcoming. Many of them are from families and many are immigrants coming to America for a new life. Emma wishes she was starting a new life, but she's going back to the old one, one that is quite painful to think about. When her glass, comes Emma sips it down. She sees two people dancing, both of whom are laughing all the time. They seem familiar, but they're moving too fast for her to positively identify who they are.

Emma is slowly sipping on her beer when the two people...Jack and Rose were their names, the artist, and the debutante. She was surprised to see the two of them together, but they had both met Emma and Peter previously.

Rose looks over at the girl and recognizes her.

"Hello Again!" Rose hollers over the music.

"Hi!" Emma smiles.

"Where's your beautiful sister?" Rose asks.

"Sleeping, hopefully," Emma says.

"Two beers please," Jack orders. He turns to Emma. "How's that sketch coming along?"

"Alright, the sunset on the Titanic is my next inspiration." Emma answers.

"How come you're not dancing?" Rose asks as the beers are placed in front of her. She takes a pause to down the whole beer is 15 seconds. Emma stares on impressed. Rose smacks the glass down and laughs hard. Emma can't help but giggle with her, like a pair of little girls.

"Impressive for a rich girl." A bystander said gruffly, putting a cigar in his mouth.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Rose grinned. She then shows all the boys around her ballet techniques.

"So what brings you down here?" Jack asks Emma.

"Peter heard about the party and decided I needed some cheering up."

"I know the best way to cheer someone up," Jack says with a mischievous grin. He grabs her hands.

"Wait I..." Emma says.

Jack takes Emma's hands and pulls her out on the dance floor. Emma is very flattered and she sees Peter dancing with Rose. Emma is trying, but her feet won't move to the beat.

"Come on!" Jack says. "Don't be the only person, not dancing."

Emma shut her eyes and pictured the music in her mind. The memories of her father teaching her how to dance come flowing back, the way he twirled her and laughed so jovially, full of hope and excitement. A small smile began to grow on her face that eventually led to a big wide grin and it gave way to a laughing fit. Emma picked up her knees and began taking off with the music. She looked at Jack's lively blue eyes and the smile on his face, she realized what Jack said about living life to the fullest. She may have lost a lot, but she didn't have to be sad about it all the time. Her parents had always wanted her to enjoy her life because she was only young for so long. They would want her to be happy.

The two spun around and then they swap partners with Peter and Rose. Emma looks lovingly into Peter's eyes, his laughing so infectious, his smile so pure. He holds Emma close and the two dance, spinning until their sick. Emma can't help but laugh continuously. The rhythm of the music and beat created by people clapping along made her feel so free and happy. This is definitely how she wanted to spend her life.

...

As the night goes on, Jack and Rose become more like friends than acquaintances. They always trade with each other when it comes to partner swaps. Peter buys a round of beer for all of them and Emma, always a bit skeptical of alcohol finishes, at least, one. She is allowed at one point to play the keyboard, something she loved to do when she was young. Everyone seems impressed and they even try to tip her money. Peter stands by her side the entire time, kissing her frequently and always laughing.

At some point, Emma sits down to rest. She watches the fiery red head and the blonde boy dance until she swears their legs will fall off.

The two of them make the perfect couple. she thought to herself. She puts her arm to her face and begins to ponder some things.

 _Rose is definitely not like other rich people._ she thinks. _She's special and I think that's what draws Jack to her. They are complete opposites, but so are Peter and me, two different things can come together to make something even better._

She watches the couple, the smiles on their faces strong and genuine. She'd never seen a rich person so happy, they always wore plastered on smiles that were fake and meaningless in every possible way. they never truly had happy lives and were so contained in their own fancy worlds that they never had any fun or cut loose.

 _I definitely want to be happy._ Emma thinks to herself. She begins twirling the engagement ring on her finger, the tiny diamond set against silver, something Peter had selected himself. When he proposed he said that this diamond was a perfect symbol of their love and no words could describe how they felt for one another. Emma never hesitated once to say yes, she knew what love was and what they had been indeed perfect. She contemplates her behaviour the past six months and was amazed on how much she had avoided Peter and neglected their engagement. She had been so preoccupied with mourning her mother and caring for her father and Sybil that she had little time or energy to even give her fiance a hug or tell him she loved him. She was amazed that Peter had stayed with her for so long even after the closeness faded away after her father died. She now understood why Peter wanted to bring her here, to bring her out of that shell she had been carrying and spread the carefree and loving wings she had had when they first met.

 _He really does love me_. she smiles to herself. She looks down at the diamond again and Jack's words about living every day to the fullest comes back.

 _Should we?_ She thinks... It seems so crazy, but maybe it's what she needs to show Peter that she still loves him and wants to spend the rest of her life with him. it would also be easier on Sybil and herself.

Jack and Rose come up to Emma.

"I need a smoke and Rose needs air, do you guys want to come?" Jack asks.

"Sure," Emma says and she gets up. She pulls Peter away from a game of _Craps_ and heads up with Jack and Rose. They follow the laughing couple up the stairs towards the deck. Emma clings to Peter's hand the entire time keeping a smile on

The two come out into the open aired deck and fortunately, both of them brought their coats. They find a bench further back from where Rose and Jack are so they can talk in private.

"Listen," Emma says, taking his hand. "I want to thank you for being the most amazing man I've ever met..."

"Oh, Emma..."

"Let me finish... I'm amazed at how supportive you've been and I know I haven't been acting like the girl you fell in love with, but..." She pauses. "I want to start being that girl again, at least once in awhile. I know I've had to take on a lot in the past month and what is between us can never be like it used to..."

Emma looks at Peter and she can see he has a look of fear in his eyes as if she's about to break up with him.

She smiles warmly. "But I want to have new and fresh start when we get back home. I don't want to be confined to the past forever. I want to be with you forever."

She leans in and kisses him.

"I want to get married tomorrow."

Peter's eyes become wide and his mouth drops open in shock.

"Are you sure we should do it?" Peter asks.

Emma leans over and kisses him hard.

"Why not?!" Emma says, the excitement building inside her. "We're on the Titanic for God's sake, the biggest ship in the world and it will be the first ever wedding on it too."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

She kisses him again. "I've never felt more ready for anything in my life," she smiles. "I want us to be a family, I want new things and this is one of them."

"Do you think we can..."

"I'm sure there's a pastor or two on the ship, it doesn't have to be a lot of people. We always intended to do it soon, so why not now? We have simple clothing to wear and this could count as our honeymoon too. We just need a few witnesses and we already have two." she nods to the happy couple up ways.

"We just met them."

"Then let's go over and get to know them better," Emma says taking his hand.

The two go to join Jack and Rose. Rose still giggling away and Jack puffing smoke from a cigarette.

"You know those things can kill you," Emma smirks.

"I know," Jack says. "It's a bad habit that I wish I could break."

Emma leans her head back and looks at the stars.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asks.

All of them look upwards.

"Do you think one day man will go to space?" Jack asks.

"Nothing's impossible." Peter answers.

The four of them spend what feels like hours talking and laughing. They all lay on the wooden deck, joking around, sharing stories of their lives, discussing the future. By the time the moon is low in the sky, Emma feels like she's made two friends, two friends whom she likes a lot.

"Do you see yourself getting married anytime soon," Peter asks.

"I'm going to be married in a month," Rose says.

Jack swallows hard. "I don't know, I'd probably do it when the right girl came around."

Emma shoves Jack's shoulder playfully. She gives him a knowing look and rolls her eyes to point at Rose.

"I'm hoping to get married really soon," Emma smiles. "Like maybe tomorrow on the bow."

Jack and Rose freeze and look up at Emma.

"Are you...?"

"Yes, I'm serious and no I'm not joking," Emma says. She scrambles off the deck and goes to Peter.

"Peter and I are in love and we want a fresh start when we get back..."

"Are you sure you're thinking this through?" Jack asks nervously.

"Aren't you the one who always says to seize every moment?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Yes but..."

"Marriage is forever," Rose says.

"We know and we want to be together forever."

Emma looks at Peter. They lock eyes and Peter's eyes looks up at the stars a then at his fiancee.

"Yes..." Peter says. "Better late than never."

"Would you guys like to come?" Emma asks.

Rose swallows hard and looks down at the deck for a second.

"I...I don't know if I..."

"It'll be really simple, there's a pastor or two on board we can talk to and you can't think of a more great location. Nothing too fancy, you guys are certainly welcome."

Rose looks at Jack and they gaze at one another for a long few moments. Rose isn't sure if she could sneak out again to do so, her mother and Cal...they would be so mad... And then there are her feelings for Jack, she's never had so much fun in a long time and her overwhelming emotions for him... It would be hard.

"I'm coming for sure." Jack finally says. "Is it okay if I bring my friends, Tommy and Fabrizio? They're suckers for spur of the moment romances."

"Absolutely, just tell them nothing too fancy and try not to make too big a deal out of it," Emma smiles.

"That's fair." Jack nods. He turns to Rose.

"It would mean a lot if you were there," Emma says.

Rose swallows again.

"I'll do my best, but I'd be honoured to come."

The engaged couple cheers and gets up to hug their new friends. Rose gets up and forces on a smile, though still hesitant.

"Let's head back inside," Peter says, brushing his blonde bangs out of his face. "Or we're going to turn into human icicles."

Emma and Peter join hands and head on inside. Jack and Rose bring up the rear, also holding hands. Rose does her best to keep a smile on her face, but she can't mask the fear she feels inside for what tomorrow might bring.


	9. Chapter 8: Choices

Chapter 8: Choices

Rose woke up the next morning with a dreadful feeling in her stomach. She had a slight headache from the beer last night, but the dread she knew would come from talking to Cal. She got up and dresses. She walks out to breakfast and sees Cal waiting for her. She folds a napkin in her lap and tries to avoid his gaze. They are halfway through breakfast when Cal speaks to her.

"I had hoped you would come to me last night," Cal says, eerily gently.

"I was tired," Rose mumbles

"Yes. Your exertions below decks were no doubted exhausting." Cal growls.

"I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me," Rose mutters

"You will never behave like that again! Do you understand?" Cal warns her.

Rose's stomach drops out and she can feel Cal's temper rising."I'm not some foreman in your mills than you can command! I am your Fiancee"

It is then that Cal explodes, sweeping the breakfast china off the table with a deafening crash. He moves to her in one shocking moment, glowering over her and gripping the sides of her chair, so she is trapped between his arms. Rose's heart is in her throat as she is forced to look Cal in the eyes.

"Yes! You are! And my wife... in practice, if not yet by law. So you will honor me as a wife is required to honor her husband! I will not be made out a fool! Is this in any way unclear?" He barks angrily.

Rose's tears are frozen in her eyes and she breathes heavily, scared to say anything. Cal then gets up and leaves the room as if nothing happened. Trudy, her mother's maid comes in. Rose swallows hard and looks at the maid.

"We... had a little accident. I'm sorry, Trudy," she says pathetically.

...

She then goes to dress for church. Her mind still reeling from the shock of Cal's outburst as she laces up her mother's corset.

"You are not to see that boy again, do you understand me, Rose? I forbid it!" her mothers says.

"Oh, stop it, Mother. You'll give yourself a nosebleed." Rose snaps, angry over everyone having control over her life. She turns to walk away from Ruth.

Ruth pulls away from her, and crosses to the door, locking it and preventing Rose's escape. Ruth grabs her daughter to face her.

"Rose, this is not a game! Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone!"

"Of course, I know it's gone. You remind me every day!" Rose moans.

"Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card we have to play. I don't understand you? It is a fine match with Hockley, and it will ensure our survival."

"How can you put this on my shoulders?"

"Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? Do you want to see our fine things sold at an auction, our memories scattered to the winds? My God, Rose, how can you be so selfish?"

"It's so unfair," Rose growls under her breath.

"Of course, it's unfair! We're women. Our choices are never easy." Her mother says, signaling to Rose to finish up the corset.

...

Meanwhile, down a few decks, Emma and Peter woke up cuddled in each other's arms, still in the same clothes from the night before.

Emma rolls over to look at Peter.

"Good morning my handsome husband to be..." she smiles.

"Good morning my lovely future wife," Peter says.

"I had an amazing time last night," she smiles. She leans forward and kisses him. "Thank you."

A happy squeal interrupts their embrace, but neither is annoyed by it. Emma gets up and goes to the cradle. Sybil squeals again when she sees her big sister. Emma lifts her up and nuzzles noses.

"We missed you too," Emma says as if she can understand what her sister was saying. She brings Sybil over to the bed and sits her down next to Peter.

"We have something special to tell you," Peter says, poking Sybil's belly.

"We're going to be getting married today at sunset," Emma says.

Sybil continues to smile as if she understands what is happening.

"None of this will ever stop us from loving you, we just want you to grow up in a loving family," Emma says. She kisses her sister on the cheek and then kisses Peter on the lips.

The family gets up and dresses for church. They each picked out the outfit they were going to wear. Peter, a simple black suit and blue tie. For Emma, she got out her mother's white dress, something her mother had made for her own wedding, which was also quite simply done with lace. It was the most beautiful thing her mother ever owned. Emma had originally thought that her mother would want to be buried with her most prized possession, but the will clearly stated that Emma was to keep it. Her eyes filled with tears, knowing that her mother had always planned to save the dress so that her daughter could wear it. Emma had also brought a family heirloom with her, which her father had requested in his will that she wear it when their ashes were spread.

"Don't be sad," Emma muttered to herself. "This is the happiest day of your life."

She dressed Sybil in a small lace gown, also made by her mother and put a bow in her sister's hair to complete the look.

The mass was long and quiet, Sybil falling asleep in Emma's arms. After the mass, the couple went up to the pastor and explained to him what they planned. They also mentioned that Sybil was Emma's sister so he would not get the wrong idea. The pastor was more than happy to perform the ceremony and he even gave Sybil a small blessing before they left.

The couple went down towards the third class area and Jack's Italian friend, Fabrizio found them and told them what was to happen. Emma couldn't believe how nice everyone was being and how thoughtful they all were. She said they were all welcome to come, there just wouldn't be dinner afterward. Most people were from the party last night and everyone was pleased to help. Emma and Peter then rushed about for the rest of the afternoon to make preparations with everyone.

...

Back down a few decks. Jack had left Tommy, Fabrizio and everyone else who had volunteered to help with the couple's wedding preparations. Tommy had spilled the beans at breakfast and Fabrizio found Peter and Emma and told them everything that had happened. Emma was more than flattered that so many people wanted to help and she told them when and where the ceremony was to happen. Even with all the excitement, Jack couldn't feel happy for his new friends. His mind was on Rose the whole time. He hadn't stopped thinking about her at all.

It literally broke his heart to have to say goodbye to her last night. He knew that he was in too deep with Rose and she was engaged to another, better well off man, but she was in his blood now. His heart beat so quickly when he thought about her. She was a first class girl and way out of his league, she was spoiled, but in every other way she was perfect. He saw something in her he was sure no one else saw, freedom and love, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

He had tried to see her at first class mass, but he was turned away. He was now doing something completely insane and sneaking up to first class and try to find Rose again. He had swiped a man's first class jacket to disguise himself, with the intention to return it as soon as he saw Rose.

He weaved in between the upper decks until he saw Rose walking with some other people by the lifeboats. He slipped into an area he saw as the gymnasium and waited till Rose came around. He signaled to her and he felt slight relief when she excused herself from the others.

Jack closes the door behind her, and glances out the window to see if they were followed. Rose's heart beats quickly and her face flushes. She tries to hide the excitement of seeing Jack again and at the same time the same dread she had this morning. She thought maybe if she didn't see Jack again, she could forget about him.

"Jack, this is impossible. I can't see you." She says, trying to sound annoyed.

Jack suddenly takes her by the shoulders, a lot more gently than Cal ever did.

"Rose, you're no picnic... you're a spoiled little brat even, but under that you're a strong, pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding girl I've ever known and…"

"Jack, I..." Rose starts.

"No, wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amazing... and I know I have ten bucks in my pocket and I have nothing to offer you, Rose. I know that. But I'm involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away without knowing that you're going to be alright."

Rose feels the tears coming to her eyes. Her heart beats so quickly whenever she's around Jack. She's never met anyone so open and passionate. She wants desperately to take him into her arms and never let go, but it takes all of her strength not to.

"You're making this very hard. I'll be fine... Really." she says, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"I don't think so," Jack says. "They've got you in a glass jar like some butterfly, and you're going to die if you don't break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause you're strong. But sooner or later the fire in you is going to go out."

"It's not up to you to save me, Jack," Rose says sadly.

"You're right. Only you can do that." Jack sighs. He can feel her pulling away again.

"I have to get back, they'll miss me. Please, Jack, for both our sakes, leave me alone." She turns to leave.

"So I guess that means you're not coming to the wedding?" Jack asks. Rose can hear the sadness in his voice.

Rose bites her lip. She wants to say no, but she can't bring herself to say anything.

Rose turns from him, tears filling her eyes and she exits the gym to go and find Cal.

...

Later in the day, Rose sits on a divan, with a group of other women arrayed around her in the first class lounge. Her mother Ruth, the Countess of Rothes and Lady Duff-Gordon are taking tea with her. Ruth is telling the ladies about the upcoming wedding.

"Of course, the invitations had to be sent back to the printers twice. And the bridesmaids dresses! Let me tell you what an odyssey that has been... and of course, Rose wanted lavender for the wedding and..."

Rose turns from the conversation and stares lazily at anything severely more interesting. She spots a girl about four years old, wearing white gloves, daintily picking up a cookie. She is reminded of little Cora, the girl Jack danced with the other night, except this girl is more sullen and much less playful. Rose watches as the mother continuously corrects her daughter on her posture and the way she holds the teacup. The little girl is trying so hard to please her mother. Rose just thought about how wrong this seemed. Little girls should be free to play, run around and make mistakes, not be badgered constantly by what is right and wrong.

A lump forms in Rose's throat when she thinks of Emma. The free spirit that had grown up in such a different setting from her. She recalls the way Emma talked about her childhood and the loving parents that she missed dearly. She had more opportunities than Rose ever had and now the debutante was quite envious. She wanted the love that Peter gave her and the support they gave each other. And most of all these were friends that Rose had made on her own, not based on her mother's influence. She liked Peter and Emma and she owed them enough to be present at their wedding.

She calmly and impulsively turns her teacup over, spilling tea all over her dress.

"Oh, look what I've done," Rose says aloud.

Rose excuses herself from the table and she goes to her room. She sorts through the assortment of dresses she owns and picks something that **she** liked. Something simple... she picks the colour lavender, a colour her mother despises and gets into it. She fixes her hair and heads down, careful to be seen by anyone. She knows she will be seeing Jack and what happened at the gym broke her heart, but it is about Emma and Peter tonight. It was a celebration of their love, not hers.

Rose goes through the dividing gates from first to second class. She looks at the paper the couple had given her and finds the cabin door. She knocks loudly.

A bright and cheery Emma answers with a small girl in her arms.

"Hi Rose, come on in," Emma says. "Sorry about the mess."

Rose forces herself into the room, which is a mess. Typical for a young family with a child.

"Would you mind holding Sybbie for a second" Emma asks, struggling with a few things. Rose is given the sister and tries awkwardly to hold.

Emma looks at Rose as she struggles to cradle her sister. Sybil squirms uncomfortably and begins to pout slightly.

"Here," Emma says. She puts everything else down and shows Rose how to hold her sister properly. Sybil settles down immediately and sucks on her fist contently.

"I do apologize," Rose says in the most polite voice she can muster. The way Rose speaks makes Emma's stomach twist. She knows this is not the way Rose likes to talk. "I've just never been around babies that much."

"It's fine," Emma says, going back to preparations. "It takes some getting used to."

Rose sits on the edge of the bed and attempts to bounce Sybil in her lap like she's seen many nannies do to children. Sybil squeals in delight and it eases the pain Rose is feeling.

"You like that Sybbie don't you?" Emma coos to her sister.

"Sybbie?" Rose asks in confusion.

"It's a nickname my dad thought of when she was born," Emma explains cleaning up a bit. "Luckily she doesn't understand it yet. His nickname for me was Emmy and I told him to stop the moment I could talk."

"My father called me Rosey until I was in my teens," Rose smiles contently, thinking fondly of her father.

"That's not too bad," Emma says.

"My mother hated it, though. She told him that one should be addressed by their God-given name."

"Sounds really silly if you ask me," Emma says impulsively then stops guiltily. "No offense."

"None taken," Rose says, continuing to bounce Sybil. "Where's Peter?"

"Bride and Groom can't see each other before the wedding," Emma explains. "He's down in the third class with Jack and his friends."

Rose's face flushes. She had not stopped thinking about Jack and she felt so torn and confused than ever before. She attempts to distract herself when she sees Emma sort through her stockings and shoes.

"No corset?" She asks.

"Are you kidding?" Emma says. "Those things are so uncomfortable, I recently read a study saying that they screw up your spine and restrict breathing too much. It's probably why women faint so much in hot weather."

"That and the heavy petticoats," Rose adds.

"I never understood why they wear so many folds of a skirt, just to make their butts look bigger. It's just weird. Women are people too, we should not be asking men to look at us more than they already do"

Rose can't help but laugh at this. Despite her ladies training, she never understood the petticoats much either. She avoided them at all costs, despite her mother's nagging.

Rose liked Emma, a lot. She was such a free thinker, seeing women as people and believed that they had rights, something her class, Cal, and her mother attempt to suppress in her. Rose again felt the envy of Emma's world. Raised to be whoever she wanted to be and free to make her own decisions.

"So no to answer your question, I will not be wearing a corset to my wedding," Emma adds to the conversation. "I want to be comfortable."

"I know the feeling." Rose mutters.

Emma stops and looks at the clock. She has finished cleaning the room enough for it to be presentable. Rose had to remind herself how spoiled she really was and how she had never cleaned anything in her life. She felt guilty letting the bride clean up, she should have done it.

"Well, I have just enough time to get into the dress before we need to leave."

Rose smiled and sat with her thoughts as Emma went to get ready.


	10. Chapter 9: Bow at Sunset

Chapter 9: Bow at Sunset

"I'll just be a second," Emma calls from behind the screen.

Rose sits with Sybil on her lap in the couple's second class cabin. Rose was dressed in the nicest of her dresses, nothing too fancy as per Emma's request. Rose can't help, but feel happy for the couple, engaged and now tying the knot. She had to feel happy, despite the misgivings and mixed feelings she has about her own relationships. She knew that Jack was invited as well, but she wasn't quite ready to face him after what happened in the gymnasium. She had her moral duties to Cal and her mother, but more importantly, he'd hurt her or Jack if she continued to see him.

"Okay." Emma calls.

She steps out in a pair of black flats. Rose's eyes go wide. The young bride to be was dressed in a cotton white dress that went down to her ankles. The outer layer is covered in beautifully crocheted lace. The bodice was also cotton, but engraved with blue beads along the sides and the sleeves were short, covering her upper arms with another round of lace.

"What do you think?" Emma asks. She gives a small twirl for the two girls.

Rose couldn't lie. "You look amazing," Rose smiles. Sybil squeals in agreement.

"It was my mother's. She made it herself." Emma whispers. She swallows hard. "So in a way she'll be with me."

Rose gets up and pulls the girl into a hug.

"She's always with you." Rose whispers. "And today she couldn't be any prouder."

"Thanks, Rose. Do think when you get married, your mother will be proud of you?"

"More likely relieved..." Rose sighs.

"What do you mean?" Emma asks, taking Sybil into her arms.

Rose swallows hard and turns red. Until then it was a carefully guarded secret between their families financial advisers, her mother and herself, but Rose knew the truth was going to come out eventually. It had not reached the Hockley's yet, but somehow Rose knew that Emma could keep a secret. The knowledge of their debts was a burden that her mother forced her to carry alone and was never afraid to remind her of the reason she was engaged to Cal. The pressure to save their family name was a lot for Rose to handle, coupled with the fact that Cal was prone to violent outbursts like the one he had this morning was taking its toll on her mentally and physically.

"My father died a few years ago and unbeknownst to us, he left my mother and me large debts that need to be paid off. We're struggling to keep our family name intact if not my mother becomes a seamstress and we lose everything we have."

"Is that why you're in this relationship with Cal?" Emma asks. "To save your reputation?"

"Mother's more than mine," Rose says defensively.

Emma stares a Rose for a long time. She cocks her head to the side, trying to analyze the situation.

"You don't seem like the type of person who cares about what others think about you." Emma points out.

Rose sits on the edge of the bed and lets some tears fall down her face. Emma puts Sybil in the cradle and sits next to Rose, pulling her into a long needed hug.

Emma knew from the start that Rose was different. She was special and definitely did not belong in the world in which she lived. Rose was given pressures that no one at her age should have. Until her parents had died, Emma had no pressure to get married, but to try new things and explore to her heart's desire. She was also able to try and find out what love was and what it meant to her. This exploration was the reason she had met Peter and how she realized what love meant. Emma did have a lot more responsibilities now, being the guardian of her younger sister and the sole heir to her father's company. To be honest, Rose's responsibilities seemed to be petty or if not easy to get out of.

 _Typical of rich people, they make it sound like their problems are going to mean the end of the world_ Emma thought. _Many families struggle to get the basic necessities for their own family like food, water or shelter and here is Rose and her mother worried about the family name and remaining filthy rich._

Emma stops herself. She realizes that it is only her mother who cares about their name, Rose does not. From the way she saw her and Jack dance the night away last night, Rose couldn't care less about what others thought about her or Jack. It seemed as if the burden was Rose being rich.

Emma suddenly remembers her father's words about the rich living loveless and shallow lives, ones that were all based on status and money, never love and care. She could see that Rose did not want that type of life, it was clear that she hated Cal and he was possibly even abusive. Rose followed her passions and feelings and there should be nothing else to it.

"You know..." Emma says softly. "When Sybil and I first met you, we knew that you were different, Sybil more than me at first. I've had bad experiences with people of your status and I always assumed you guys were obnoxious, pompous jerks with sticks so far up your asses, you couldn't think except straight. But by the fact that you actually caught me from falling instead of letting my face hug the pavement and then just talked to us as if we were normal people. And the way you played with Sybil, told me that you were different. That you have a loving heart and passions that are all your own."

Emma gets up and rummages through her suitcase. She pulls out Rose's white glove.

"I meant to give this back to you, but when I saw the way you danced with Jack and how happy you looked, I realized something. These gloves were just a way to conceal who you were, making you unable to touch anything and really connect with it. I never understood why you would need gloves anyway except for in the winter time, but this glove was trapping you, forcing you to conceal, not being able to feel and unable to be who you are. You're being I like to think of it as if Sybil started you on a path, a path that you've gone forward and backtracked on. That glove was the key to opening that path to you. That was just the start, the catalyst if you will, the rest was up to you on whether you continued on that path. You did almost throw it away when you wanted to jump off the back of the ship..."

Rose looks up at Emma, surprised she knew the details of her attempted suicide.

"How'd..."

"People talk on a ship," Emma smiles. "News travels fast around here. But you got back on track when you invited Jack to dinner the other night, wanting to explore more and try to find your way. You made leaps and bounds (pun intended) along that path last night, you danced your heart out and enjoyed every step of the way."

Emma pauses, she sits back down on the bed next to Rose.

"But part of me is sensing you're backtracking again, running back to the start all out of fear. This glove is going to smother you and if you take it back, the gate will be closed and you'll be back to where you started. Be the two gloved girl who's merely there to be seen not heard. But when you had one on one hand and none on the other, it represented who you were and how torn you are right now. You're being pulled in two different directions, the life you want and the life you think you want."

Emma hands the glove back to Rose.

"It's time to decide whether to put that back on or not. Become who you want to be and whether you need these gloves or not."

Emma puts her arm around Rose and then stands up,

"Speaking of time, it's almost sunset. We need to go or I'll be late for my own wedding."

Rose slowly looks up at Emma who's looking at herself in the vanity mirror. She's glowing and smiling from ear to ear. She pulls her hair up into a simple style, with the intention to keep it out of her eyes.

She reaches into her drawer and pulls out a small wooden box. Rose turns in curiosity.

"My mom's hope chest," Emma explained. "She made it for me after I was born. She's been keeping something special in it and told me I'd only get to open it on the day I got married."

Rose stands up, so curious as to what lies in the box. Emma opens it.

A beautiful ornate comb lies on the inside. It is silver and gold strands woven together with tiny jewels arranged to look like small flowers. The object seems to shine in the light and radiate beauty. It is simple, but elegant.

Emma lifts it out of the box.

"It was my great-grandmother's" Emma whispered. "Passed down from mother to daughter and every bride who has worn in has lived a long and healthy life in a happy marriage."

Emma tears up as she holds the thing in her hands.

"Today I wear it, someday Sybil will wear it and any other beautiful woman in the family who's sole purpose is to marry the man they love."

Emma turns it over and there is and engraving just above the comb's teeth.

 _Forever and always._

"Forever and always" Emma reads. "The family vow."

Emma turns to Rose.

"Would you...?" she asks.

Rose is taken aback by the offer. Her heart beats quickly, and she herself tears up.

"I'd be honored." Rose whispers.

Rose takes the delicate thing in her hands and slowly combs it back in Emma's hair. She's worried she might drop the thing, but in the end, she sets it perfectly in Emma's hair. It was as if it was always meant to be there.

Emma stands up still staring at her reflection.

"Today is the first day of the rest of my life," She whispers.

" And you look beautiful," Rose smiles. She leans forwards and pecks Emma on the cheek, tradition that is often done by mothers or sisters before a wedding.

"For luck" Rose explains.

Emma pulls Rose into another long hug. When the two break apart Emma picks up Sybil and they begin the long trek to the bow of the Titanic. The entire way Rose remains rather silent, heartbeat echoing in her ears. She keeps her hands in a fixed position, squeezing the glove in her hand.

When they reach the lower deck area in third class, a brisk and cool breeze meets the young women as they approach where the wedding will be. Rose shivers and pulls the shawl she acquired up. She's about to offer one to Emma but the cold doesn't seem to bother her. They walk around a staircase, leading to the lower decks, Rose can now see a crowd of people, most likely there to just support the young couple. Many of whom Rose recognizes from the party last. All of them are smiling and wishing Emma good luck. An elderly woman comes up and hands Emma an impromptu bunch of flowers, mostly wilted roses.

"Had to swipe a few from a vase from the upper decks. It's not much but..."

Emma stops her.

"It's perfect," Emma smiles.

"Like you my child." the elderly woman smiles and kisses Emma on the cheek.

"Is everything ready?" Rose asks.

"The good father is ready and so is the groom." the elderly lady answers.

A voice rings out. "Will everyone please rise so we can begin our first hymn."

Rose can't help, but feel nervous, even though she's not the one who will be getting married. Her mind is a whirlwind of thoughts that she can't quite comprehend the meanings to. The crowd of people is all standing in a formation that is supposed to be the impromptu aisle. Many voices bellow out the lyrics to a single hymnal that they know only by the heart.

"Get ready Rose." Emma whispers. "You're going first."

Rose turns in surprise, confused.

"What...? But I..."

"And here comes your escort," Emma says. Rose's eyes go wide when she sees Jack coming towards the couple. Rose cannot read his face. It is a mix of emotions and Jack is trying not to look at her, obviously still reeling from their discussion earlier.

He awkwardly offers his arm out to Rose as the hymn continues.

"Miss DeWitt." Jack murmurs, still trying to avoid Rose's eyes.

"Mr. Dawson," Rose replies softly.

"Shall we?" Jack asks awkwardly. He turns once to smile at Emma. "You look amazing and good luck," he says to her.

"Thank you now, go," Emma says

Jack cocks his arm for Rose to put her arm through. She grabs a hold, her heart beating wildly with this contact. Her arm and hand sit comfortably in the crook of Jack's arm as if they were meant to be connected.

Jack begins to walk slowly down the makeshift aisle, Rose trying to follow carefully. The couple steps in the careful rhythm of the hymn as they approach the pastor and Peter, wearing a formal suit with a small rose pinned to his breast. He looks very handsome and is beaming from ear to ear. Rose can see the excitement in his eyes and nods to acknowledge the couple. Once the end of the aisle of people is reached, marked by Jack's friends Tommy and Fabrizio, Jack lets go to stand next to Peter. Rose can't help but feel as if Jack is being ripped from her arms. She feels once again, the feeling of sadness and of separation.

Meanwhile, Emma's heart is pounding as she holds Sybil. There are butterflies in her stomach and she can feel tears threatening to come to the surface. She desperately wishing that her father was here to walk her down the aisle and to see her mother's teary but joyful face as she walked towards Peter. In her heart, she knew that they were watching her and smiling all the time. Emma sucks in a deep breath and begins walking down the aisle. Her baby sister, sitting comfortably in her arms. Despite how unorthodox it seems to carry her sister down the aisle with her, it feels right because not only are Peter and her going to be married. but all three of them are becoming a family. Sybil is playfully fiddling with the flowers in her hand and yet remaining quiet for the momentous occasion.

With every step, Emma feels more and more nervous, but at the same time, more and more joyful. She sees her handsome fiancee beaming at her, ogling her beauty in the late evening sun. Emma herself does not need the sun to show how amazing and glowing she feels.

Once she reaches the end of the aisle, she swallows and stands next to Rose facing Peter.

The song ends and Emma slowly hands Sybil to Rose, so that she can hold Peter's hand.

The pastor begins his sermon."Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bring this man and this woman together in blessed and holy matrimony. To bond Peter Alec Whitman and Emma Lillian Carson together for as long as they both shall live."

The pastor goes on, but Emma can hardly hear anything, her mind overflowing with happy thoughts, memories of Peter, herself and Sybil together. She doesn't need a fancy ceremony or a lengthy sermon to express their love, they had all they needed.

"We will now hear the vows of each individual." the pastor says.

Peter goes first.

"Emma Carson, I knew from the first moment that I saw you that you would be my wife. Even though I didn't know you then, I knew someway, somehow we would be together. When I went up to introduce myself, it felt like I was jumping off a cliff into the vast ocean. The ocean of love and passion. It was never your fair looks or status that drew me to you. It was your wonderful smile and infectious laughter that made me want to be with you. The love you give to others is rare to find, rarer that some even some treasures in the world. The joy you create also has no price, your radiant and passionate lust for life could move the earth in the most amazing ways. You never let anything hurt you or others and nothing will ever get in your way if it means protecting what you love. But most of all, it is you, who you are that I love the most. No matter what obstacles may befall us, I know that our love will always be there and flourish with the brightest light that even God himself can't create. I love you forever and ever."

Emma takes a deep breath. The hair comb winking in the setting sun

"When I was growing up, I'd always heard that there was no such thing as the perfect guy, he was merely a fantasy created in fairy tales. But I knew that the minute you came up to me you were the perfect man for me. Your smile, your passion, your heart, it what makes me love you more and more each day. I could never have asked for more of a perfect man to talk to me, to comfort me...to love me the way you do. I also love that you've been there for me through the thick and the thin. You welcomed Sybil with open arms, understanding that she means just as much to me as you do. You were there for me in my darkest hour and managed to get me to smile again, see the light when all seemed dark, give me hope when I saw none. And now, standing here today, I can't help but feel that you are more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I love you Peter Whitman...forever and always."

Rose's eyes were filled with tears as she watched the two exchange vows. Their love for each other was so pure, so hopeful, so passionate so...perfect. Her heart breaks slightly, wishing... wanting to have what the young couple have. Her mind goes to the steely tycoon who could give her what she needed. She then looks over at Jack, the man who could give her what she wanted and more. Deep down she knew all along that he was perfect for her, it just took her little longer to get there. That fire that Jack had talked about engulfed her entire body, the fire that would be doused if she married Cal. Jack fans the flame inside her, so much so that it could burn for eternity...forever...and always.

"Do you, Peter Whitman, take Emma Carson to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

"I do," Peter says

"And do you, Emma Carson, take Peter Whitman to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

Emma smiles. "With all my heart I do."

"By the power vested in me and by the loving hand of God there to guide you, I pronounce thee man and wife. You may now kiss the bride"

Emma leaps forward, wrapping her arms around Peter and kissing him with all her might. Her tears now pouring down her face Peter holds her just as tightly and kisses her with just as much passion. The crowd around them applauds and begin cheering. Some of the men throw their hats in the air and the ladies toss rice as the couple remains embraced. Emma eventually breaks and pulls her sister into the hug as well. Sybil manages a tired smile, very close to falling asleep. The couple carries Sybil down the aisle, laughing and cheering following them as the aisle melds into a crowd of congratulating people.

As the excitement continues, Rose slowly wipes the tears from her eyes, she could not be happier for Emma and Peter. Her smile was the widest it had been in a long while. She kept her distance from the insane crowd, that buried the couple in joy and praise. Rose didn't want to look at Jack, at least not yet.

"All the ladies gather round," the elderly woman shouts. "It's time for the bouquet tossing."

All the eager faces of the happy third and second class passengers women gather as Emma shuts her eyes.

"Here's to a lucky woman for a blessed wedding bliss." Emma yells. And throws.

The wind carries the small makeshift bouquet up and over many eager hands. The sounds of excitement carry upwards as all the women hope for the chance to grab the flowers.

The flowers land at Rose's feet. With little hesitation, she picked them up off the deck.

"Congrats to the young lassie!" an Irish voice yells. "Now off to the dining hall the lot of you. It's getting cold out here."

As the crowd disperses, Rose sits down on the deck, stroking the petals the small bouquet. A tear rolls down her cheek as she plucks a petal off. It's a white rose. She lets it blow away in the wind.

She stands back up to see Jack standing at the rail of the bow, gazing out at the sunset.

"Hello Jack," she says gently. Jack turns to her.

Rose swallows. "I changed my mind."

Rose can almost see a smile on Jack's face.

"They told me you might be up here and..."

"Shh!" Jack says, holding his arm out to her. "Give me your hand."

Rose looks at him strangely but reaches out to him.

"Now, Close your eyes..." he waits. "Go on close them."

Rose closes her eyes.

"Step up. Now hold on to the railing. Don't peek."

"I'm not," Rose says.

"Step on the rail. Hold on, keep your eyes closed. Don't peek. Do you trust me?"

"I trust you," Rose says without any hesitation.

Jack slowly lifts her arms out as if she was about to grow wings. He puts his hand on her waist.

"Alright... open your eyes." he whispers.

Rose gasped with amazement as the wind took her hair and her arms sprouted wings, wings that were beautiful and free.

"Jack!" She whispers. "I'm flying!"

The couple watches as the sun glows, sinking on the horizon. Jack reaches his hands out and they sail along together.

Rose's heart was beating at an alarming rate. She could feel that the spark had ignited a burning inferno. She never felt more in love, more empowered than now. Nothing else mattered anymore except Jack and their love. Rose was free of the burdens she carried for so long and had taken flight. She was leaving everything else behind, not caring what would happen anymore, as long as she had Jack with her.

Her head leaned back so she and Jack were face to face. Their eyes on each other, their breath mixing together as one. Their lips touch started touching slightly. Jack leans forward and Rose opens her mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss and connect on another level. Jack's arms went around her and she pulls him closer, running her fingers through his hair.

She had now passed the path that Emma had mentioned, and she was no longer walking, but flying along, she had opened a new path for herself. A new journey with a new destination.

In a brief break between kisses...

"Forever and always." Rose whispers.

"Forever and always." Jack agrees.

As she and Jack step down from the rail, Rose takes out the glove that Emma returned to her. Without a second of hesitation, she lets the wind carry the small white thing away.


	11. Chapter 10: New Plan

Chapter 10: New Plan

The night is quiet. The water as still as glass. There was no moon, but the stars are as beautiful as diamonds that light the way of the _Titanic_ , cutting through the water at almost breakneck speed. The watch just comes on in the Crow's nest, shivering and trying to keep their eyes open for icebergs.

Caledon Hockley makes his way down to the lower decks. He knew if there was any place to find Rose, it would be with the two brats from the second class. He knew that Rose was clever and knew that hiding in second class, instead of the third with the gutter rat, was well thought out and the last place Cal would think to look for her. He knew the young couple supported the pairing of Rose with this inferior man and would be willing to do anything to help them escape from Lovejoy. His manservant had chased the two lovers around the ship, but they had managed to get the better of him. The redeeming factor is that Lovejoy learned through a few bribes, the cabin the couple was staying in. If Rose was willing to stay with that gutter rat and enjoy the company of second class menaces, she was bolder than either Lovejoy or Hockley had first thought. Lovejoy directed Cal to the correct room down a quiet hallway. The only thing to pass them on their way there was a tiny rat, scurrying along in search of food.

 _Filthy little creatures._ Cal thought to himself and he wasn't necessarily talking about the rat.

"Stay out here Lovejoy," Cal orders. "I'll call you when and if I need you."

"As you wish…" Lovejoy murmurs.

Opening the door, Cal found the room empty and dark. His curiosity still was getting the best of him and he wandered inside, otherwise, he would not be caught dead in such a low-class cabin. He thought there might be a clue to where Rose might be. He ruffles through some of the papers on the desk, searching for anything that would be useful to him. He does find interesting documentation on the girl's recently deceased father. He pockets the piece, thinking a method of blackmail could force the girl to reveal Rose's location to him when he hears a small sound that startled him.

Adjacent to the desk was a cradle, in which an infant lay asleep inside. Cal took a step closer. He peered down at a rather small child, her tiny delicate face resembled a porcelain doll that he had seen another child in first class playing with on deck earlier. Her rosy red cheeks contrasted the pale blankets she lay asleep in. A small knitted bonnet was fitted over her small head and the child slept in matching lace dress that was far too big in size for the child.

 _How could second class even afford lace?_ He was thinking to himself.

He leans in closer and feels the material that the infant was sleeping in. The little imp made another soft noise and fidgets in her sleep. Her tiny mouth opens into a yawn and Cal is almost touched by the cute nature of this gesture. **Almost** touched, but his mind is formulating a new plan, something that would give this new discovery purpose. Obviously, the infant was alone, unguarded and unsupervised, a rather foolish decision in the long run if Cal had anything to say about it… He finds a pen in the dark and scratches out a note, leaving it on the desk.

Cal reaches down and gently puts his hand on the infant's neck and back. He's had no experience in handling children at all. That was what nannies were for and he had not been around a baby since he, himself was one. Of course, Rose, who was soon to be his wife, would have to provide an heir for him, but his job ended before it even began. The responsibilities of carrying and raising the child fell to the mother and nannies, he was in charge of an entire empire in which the family would be raised upon. Yet, despite the lack of experience, Cal knew that this infant would be vital in getting Rose back and ridding himself of the gutter rat and this child's guardians.

He lifts the tiny thing up and awkwardly positions it in his arms. Although not totally heartless, Cal knew the infant requires blankets if it is to survive the trip it would go on. He grabs a woven grey blanket and places it on top of the child's sleeping form. He had to be very careful because the last thing Cal needed now was a screaming child to signal and give away his plan. He walks slowly and quietly to the door and creeps out into the hall. The infant squints, but remains asleep at the sudden change of lighting. Lovejoy gave Cal a horrified look, clearly never imagining his master would even consider carrying a child. His second thought is why Cal is bringing the child to him, had the purpose of the mission become lost on his master? The servant couldn't tell.

Cal puts a finger to his lips with his free hand and then attempted to pass the child to Lovejoy. The little thing moans uncomfortably, but she settles again once Lovejoy has her in a proper cradling position.

"As long she remains asleep…" Cal whispers. "She is useful to us."

"But sir…" Lovejoy asks softly.

Cal cuts him off. "Shh! I will explain everything else promptly."

Lovejoy nodded and followed with the child in arms.


	12. Chapter 11: Icy Omen

Chapter 11: Icy Omen

It wasn't long after Cal had broken into their cabin that the newlyweds, Peter and Emma come down the hall from a late dinner to check on Sybil. Their hearts are overjoyed by finally being united in holy matrimony. They had left Rose and Jack to find something to eat and promised to find them later. However, Emma couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that was still plaguing her, even though this was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. She opens the cabin door quietly and crept up to the cradle.

At first, she blinks hard and takes a step back. Perhaps she was just tired and her eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark. She takes a deep breath and looks again. She reaches down, thinking her baby sister may have pulled the blankets over her face by mistake. When she felt nothing, she falls back against the wall in horror.

"P-Peter!" she squeaks out.

Peter comes out of the bathroom and finds Emma clutching her mouth to keep herself from screaming.

"What's wrong?" Peter peers down into the cradle and gasps. The couple re-light the lamps in the cabin and search carefully. Sybil was starting to crawl and maybe she managed to climb out of the cradle and got into things she wasn't supposed to. Although how ridiculous this scenario seemed, the couple kept searching. They check their beds, under the desk, even in the wardrobe for any sign of the child. Anxiously, Emma went next door to the neighbour who was supposed to check on Sybil every half hour. Maybe the neighbour had taken Sybil to be fed. She bangs frantically on the door and the neighbour opens it up.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Do you have Sybil with you?" Emma asks breathlessly.

"N-no, she's asleep. I checked on her fifteen minutes ago."

"She's gone…" Emma squeaks.

"W-WHAT?!" the neighbour gasps. She too ran into the room and begins searching with Peter.

Emma could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and her throat seems to close up, killing her slowly. Her baby sister. The only family she had left had been snatched by a thief in the night. She and Peter were planning to raise her as a family, just until the couple was old enough to have offspring of their own.

 _What kind of monster would abduct an innocent child?_ She thought to herself. She can feel herself starting to hyperventilate so hard that she has to sit down. This ship was so huge that there would be no way they could find her without getting lost themselves. They need to inform the captain. The thief can hide, but he can't run unless he's willing to jump into the freezing cold water to escape. When that thought enters her mind, Emma's knees began to shake and she wants to vomit. Her mind races as she curls up for a moment to gather her bearings.

That is until she finds a piece of paper that had been thrown from the desk in the search. She picks it up, unable to identify the handwriting. It is extremely messy, most likely scratched out at the last minute. The words, however, were readable.

 _To find the child,_

 _Find Rose DeWitt Bukater._

Rose?

 _What would Rose want with Sybil? Unless she and Jack came down and heard Sybil stir and took her up for fresh air and didn't want to disturb us._

"Peter" Emma says, standing up, finding her strength once again. "Rose and Jack may have Sybil."

"Why…? Oh, thank God!" The neighbour breaths a sigh of relief. "I did hear movement next door, they must have taken her for some fresh air."

"We'll just find them…" Peter says, a smile returning to his face.

There was some relief, but they had to find Jack and Rose so Sybil could be fed. At the same time, Emma is praying that this was the case, but that ominous feeling that something bad may have happened remains with her.

With that, the neighbour returns to her cabin and the couple race up the nearest set of stairs. They find an officer guarding the dividing gate between classes and inform him of the situation. He is reluctant to let the couple up into the higher decks, but seeing the distraught look on Emma's face and the anxiety in her voice, he made an exception. Emma and Peter begin weaving through some of the corridors, asking any passer byes if they had seen a man with blond hair and a woman with red hair carrying a small infant. They mostly got no, but as the couple searches, Rose and Jack were near the bow when the ship strikes the infamous iceberg. Emma and Peter hardly feel anything because their anxiety was high, but they notice the change in motion and that the ship had stopped. Emma feels her stomach tie into a knot again, but she had to find her baby sister.

As the couple goes through the halls, they see some passengers sticking their heads out of their cabins in confusion. Several officers on duty are summoned by others asking what seemed to be the matter.

Peter and Emma reach the upper decks, by the gymnasium and they catch a glimpse of flowing red hair on her way back to her cabin. The two race to catch up with them.

"Rose! Jack!" Emma yells.

Both turn towards the sound of their names, they were about to congratulate the two when they saw the worry on the newlyweds faces.

"Where's Sybil?" Emma asks, almost breathless. She saw that neither of them was carrying a bundle and her heart stops.

"What do you mean?" Rose asks in confusion.

"You mean she's not with you?" Peter asks in frustration.

"Why would we have Sybil?" Jack questions.

"There was a note in our cabin that if we wanted to find Sybil, we had to find you," Emma says, knowing the reality of the situation. She feels the tears coming back to her eyes and she feels helpless again. Sybil has been abducted and obviously the man responsible misled them so he could make his escape with her.

Emma breaks down and collapses on the floor in tears.

Rose, Peter, and Jack are immediately at her aid.

"Deep breaths, Emma!" Jack says calmly.

"It hurts so bad!" Emma wails. "I-I promised my parents I would care for her! Now she's gone. I was so selfish!"

"It'll be okay!" Rose whispers, helping Emma to her feet. Though in the back of Rose's mind, she knew that this was not true. She and Jack and seen the iceberg crash into the side of the ship. Both of them found heard from other officers that the damage from the iceberg was serious and the ship was now in a state of emergency. They had reluctantly decided to back and tell Rose's mother and Cal about it.

With the addition of Sybil vanishing, Rose knew that the likelihood that kidnapper would either use Sybil to gain access to a lifeboat, or the more horrifying idea that he'd rather take Sybil and him to a watery grave than be found out about his crime.

"We need to get her inside," Jack says. "Lean on me for support Emma."

"We'll take her to my cabin," Rose says. "It's warm and we can figure out what to do next."

Peter and Jack support Emma while Rose trails behind the group, worrying about what will happen next. She knew that she didn't want to face her mother or Cal at this moment. Emma is her priority and to find Sybil before the ship sank was the main task. Telling Cal that her engagement to him is off and facing the wrath of her mother came later. Her heart begins pounding in her chest as she leads the others to her cabin bedroom.

To great relief, no one is around, probably either sleeping or in Cal's case, in the smoking room, waiting for news about her.

Emma sits down on the edge of bed still weeping. Peter sits beside her, keeping her in his arms. Rose goes into her drawer and digs out a handkerchief for her. Emma wipes her eyes and sighs deeply. Everything is coming apart at the seams. Her sister is missing and deep down she knew the ship was in trouble some way, somehow. Emma's stomach knots again, knowing that the nightmare she'd had the other night was going to come true.

"The ship's in trouble isn't it?" She asks from behind the folds of the handkerchief.

Rose and Jack look at each other reluctantly. Peter looks at them with wide eyes, the silence is enough for him to know the truth. Emma sniffs quietly and dries her eyes.

"How much time do we have?" Peter whispers.

Rose swallows hard, not really wanting to answer.

"Hard to say. We just heard it was serious" she gulps and leans into Jack for support.

There's a long silence between the couples as they contemplate their possible fate.

Rose stares at Emma, still dressed in the lovely white lace dress she'd worn on the bow of the Titanic just hours before when she married Peter. Peter in his suit, as he consoles Emma in her grief. Rose grabs Jack's hand as if to memorize the feeling of his soft skin. She never wants to let go. All their fates are uncertain and the question of who will live to see dawn the next morning hangs over in her mind. Her eyes wander around the room when she noticed the safe on the mantle something wasn't right about it.

"Well, I'm not just going to stay here and let that bastard take Emma's sister." Jack declares. "Sinking or not, the guy can't get very far on a ship like this! He'll most likely be evacuated...we can probably catch him!"

"But how?!" Emma squeaks. "The ship is enormous and in trouble. We may never find her..."


	13. Chapter 12: Trapped

Chapter 12: Trapped

"We'll split up!" Jack says. "You guys go and check down the grand stairs and by the gym. I'll head for the bow."

Rose notices that the safe on the mantle was ajar. There seems to be another piece of paper sticking out of it.

Scratched on another piece of paper, next to Jack's drawing are the words.

 _Only you would have noticed this._

 _We must discuss what is going to happen. To find the child, meet me near the stern._

 _C_

Rose knew where to go and that she had to handle it herself, for the sake of Jack, Emma, Peter, and Sybil.

Rose takes the nearest corridor out onto the deck and began to race towards the stern. She knew that Sybil's life could be in danger if she didn't get there fast enough. She shivers slightly, remembering that she left her coat in her room. Cold didn't matter at the moment, Sybil is her priority.

She runs the route she had taken to commit suicide, the night Jack saved her. She could feel the tears in her eyes as she runs up the staircase leading to the rail. Once on the top step, she scans desperately for Sybil or her abductor.

Rose spots a small bundle of blankets lying on the deck and she races over, as fast as her heels could carry her. She reaches down and scoops up Sybil.

"Oh thank God!" She breathes in relief. She begins expertly cradling the still sleeping infant and fussing over her like she was a mother. Rose checks to make sure she is still breathing and warm enough. Sybil's eyes open briefly and Rose swears she could see the recognition in the child's eyes. She smiles at the child, hoping one day, Jack and she would have children just as beautiful as Sybil.

"I knew you would show up." A cold and dark voice says behind her.

Rose turns, clutching Sybil to her chest. There stands Cal in his evening wear walking out from the shadows behind the staircase, the same place that Jack had appeared from the other night.

"You left some pretty obvious clues," Rose says just as coldly.

"Only you could have noticed the safe open," Cal says with a slight grin.

Rose takes a step back again, trying to shield Sybil and keep her warm. She re-evaluates the situation and notices that Cal has his silver revolver pointed at her. She swallows hard but tries to remain strong for the sake of the baby.

"But what to do now?" Cal says with a slight chuckle. "Go running back to your gutter rat?"

"Or towards the lifeboats." The knowledge had been lost on her in the flurry of finding Sybil, but now she remembers that the ship is sinking. "Because this ship doesn't have much longer."

"So I've heard," Cal grins. "Too bad you or he won't make it that far."

"If you're going to kill me, answer me this question," She says as boldly as she can. "Why Sybil? Why would you kidnap an innocent child?"

"You seem to have misunderstood my intentions," Cal says, shaking his head. "I'm not going to kill you…far from it. You are still my fiancée."

"Ex- fiancee" Rose corrects. "I'm done with you and anything involved with this society, I'm free now."

"Are you?" Cal asks.

"Yes."

"ARE YOU?!" he bellows even harder. "Because at this moment, you are more trapped than a rat."

"What are you talking about?" Rose asks, clutching Sybil even tighter than before.

"The child…" he points at Sybil with his gun. "Was simply the bait. I knew that I couldn't break you two apart as easily as I thought, so I decided to go a different route."

He cocks the pistol and takes another few steps toward Rose. Rose backs up as far as she can go until she hits the back railing. She stares on the side, going back to the horrific moment when she wanted to jump from the ship. She can see the ice cold water below, except it isn't churning because the propellers have stopped after the ship scraped the iceberg. She knew there is no escape from Cal and the option to jump with Sybil only crosses her mind once.

Cal grabs her wrist firmly. Rose has no choice but to oblige with the sleeping infant in her arms. He puts his arm around her waist and pulls her towards him. Rose feels something sharp press against her stomach. She can feel his hot breath on her neck. She doesn't know if it is the pistol or some other weapon that Cal has obtained. He presses it against her stomach, forcing her to remain in place.

"You were a fool to think you could escape me, Rose. I always win."

When Cal says this, Emma and Peter come up the stairs. Rose realizes that they had found the note and ran here to help.

"Sybil!" Emma says, trying to reach her sister. The relief on her face is a small comfort for Rose.

"Emma don't…" Rose is cut off by Cal cocking the gun and pointing it at Emma. She immediately steps back in horror. Peter clutches Emma's arm and stands in front of her to protect his new bride.

"Stay back and you won't get hurt!" Cal hisses.

"What the hell is this?" Peter yells angrily. "What the hell are you doing?! Rose what's going on?!"

Emma chimes right in. "You kidnap my baby sister and now you hold us at gunpoint."

Rose can feel the tears falling down her cheeks. She is just as scared and all she can do is watch as Cal continues to point the gun at them.

"THIS…" Cal snarls. "Is what happens when you cross Caledon Hockley!"

"What did we do to you?" Emma screeches. "All I want is my sister back!"

"You brainwashed my fiancee and assisted in her so-called escape from me."

"We helped her see the light!" Emma yells back. "We helped her find true love, not…whatever you thought you had with her. It's obvious you two don't love each other and it's clear you are a dangerous person! We were protecting her from you!…"

Rose looks helplessly at Emma and shaking her head, begging her to stop, not to make it worse. Emma is now crying too, she keeps staring at Sybil, still cradled in Rose's arms. Peter continues to stand in front of Emma to protect her.

"We don't want anything from you! This is between you and Rose" Peter says in a calmer voice. "All we want is Sybil…"

"Peter what about Rose?" Emma says turning him to her. "We can't leave her with him."

Rose feels slight comfort knowing that Emma is thinking of her as well as Sybil. To Emma, Rose is like a sister and she needs protection too. Protection from a harmful and potentially deadly relationship. But Rose knew that Sybil's safety is more important than hers at the moment. She still could not figure out Cal's plan. He is holding Emma and Peter at gunpoint and her a knife point, what could he stand to gain from…?

"Rose?" a voice rings out.

Rose's heart stops and drops to her stomach. She shuts her eyes tightly and prays that Jack won't come up here.

 _Please don't Jack… He's going to…_

Jack's face appears as he comes up the steps, followed closely by Lovejoy.

Jack's face goes to utter horror when he sees the scene in front of him. Sybil in Rose's arms, Rose in Cal's arms and Cal holding Emma and Peter at an armed gun point.

"What the hell is?"

"Jack…" Emma says, coming to Rose's realization. "Run please."

"What is…?"

"Finally found your way here eh gutter rat?" Cal smirks. Rose could feel the blade becoming tighter around her waist. "Took you long enough Lovejoy."

"Your butler was some help to me." Jack snarls. "But it's clear that you run a tight ship and he needs to shape up or get shot.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Cal barks. "I am your superior!"

"Right now, you're way lower than the criminally insane." Jack retorts.

"We'll see who the criminal is Dawson," Cal smirks. He suddenly pushes the barrel of the gun up against Rose's neck.

Rose can feel the cold metal burrowing itself into her flesh. She has never felt so helpless, she is in the arms of a madman.

"You wouldn't..." Jack says confidently. "She means too much to you."

"There are three bullets left in this gun, Dawson." Cal moves the gun from Rose's neck and points it at Sybil's bonnet. Jack, Emma, and Peter's eyes go wide.

"One." He indicates the infant.

He points at Peter's chest. "Two"

He then re-directs the gun around Peter to Emma. "Three."

"You wouldn't dare…" Jack gasps, trying to act brave.

"I always get what I want," Cal smiles. "One way or another! And nobody stands in my way"

Emma looks at Rose with desperate eyes, begging her to please do something. Rose just shuts her eyes and tries to keep herself from collapsing. She had stepped right into Cal's trap and now Emma, Peter, and Sybil were going to pay for her mistakes.

"Cal please!" Rose squeaks out. "This is between you and me! Let them go and I'll…"

She looks at Jack with sad eyes and told him through her eyes that she had no choice. Jack sees this and shakes his head.

"No Rose you can't!" he begs.

"I'm sorry Jack," She whispers helplessly. She turns back to Cal.

"I'll marry you and I'll never have contact with any of them ever again."

"I wish I could believe you Rose, but unfortunately, that ship sunk a long time ago."

With that, Cal pulls the trigger and the guns go off.


	14. Chapter 13: No Way Out

Chapter 13: No Way Out

Rose and Emma scream in horror as Peter falls backward onto the deck. Sybil wakes up and starts crying. Rose wants desperately to run to Peter's side, but Cal's blade keeps her in place. Jack and Emma are beside Peter, Emma sobbing, looking for the wound. Jack turns to Cal and dives after the gun. Cal makes no attempt to get it.

It is at this moment that Rose realizes what Cal has planned.

"No JACK!" she yells, but Jack has the gun pointed at Cal within seconds.

Emma is screaming up a storm, trying to revive Peter and there are pounding footsteps coming along the stern towards the noise. Rose tries to fight Cal, but the blade continues to dig into her side. Cal knows he has to keep her quiet in order for his plan to work.

Several officers come running up to the scene, their guns out and raised at Jack. A few officers go to help Emma and Peter.

"Drop your weapon!" One officer yells at Jack. Jack obediently sets it down.

"What is going on here?" William Murdoch yells.

"Officer!" Emma tries to speak.

"This man robbed us at gun point!" Cal breaks in. He suddenly sounds like a helpless victim instead of the monster he has been for the last five minutes. "He took my wife's necklace and still wants more from us. It's clear that he planned to kill us"

"What necklace? What?!" Jack blurts.

"Stay quiet!" one of the officers says.

"These people were attempting to help us and he shot this young man."

"No…" Emma says. "He's lying! He's the…"

"Poor child is distraught" Cal cuts in. "She doesn't know what she's saying."

"No! Rose please..." Emma begs

Cal slowly rubs the knife along Rose's stomach daring her to say something.

"Is this true ma'me I did he try to rob you?" Officer Lightoller asks.

"I didn't do anything." Jack protests. "That man right here threatened to shoot Peter, Emma and the baby."

"Silence." One of the officers barked and Jack falls silent. "Search him."

The officers come forward and remove Jack's jacket

"I haven't done anything, this is horseshit. I..."

Jack's words fall on deaf ears and he himself becomes speechless when a bright blue heart is removed from his coat pocket.

"Is this it sir?" the officer asks.

Rose's eyes went wide in horror and she tries to lean forward towards Jack, but Cal keeps her in his grasp.

"Yes it is, thank you," Cal says, tightening his grip on Rose again and taking the diamond back.

"It is clear what we have to do now," Lightoller says grimly. One of the officers handcuffs Jack.

"Don't you believe it, Rose, Don't! I didn't do this!" Jack says struggling against the hands that held him.

"Stop struggling son, it won't do anything for you," Lightoller says. He stares at the couple with the wailing baby.

"He...he couldn't have..." Rose stammers.

"Of course, he could have." Cal glares at her. "Easy enough for a professional."

"I was with him the whole time. He didn't know the combination or anything!" she says exasperatedly

"Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes back on dear..." Cal hisses in her ear, tightening the blade again.

Rose feels like she is suffocating, either from Cal's grip or about how trapped she feels. She has been so foolish and ended up as the bait for Cal's trap to separate the two of them for good. Sybil whines in her arms and she continues to clutch the infant tightly.

"He didn't steal anything!" Emma screams, still laying next to Peter. A few other officers join her in examining Peter.

"He's not dead." one officer says. "But he has a nasty gunshot wound to the leg. He must be moved quickly before he bleeds out. Let's get him a stretcher."

"I didn't shoot him!" Jack protests. "And the diamond they slipped it into my pocket Rose...please."

"It's not even your pocket is it son?" Lovejoy says, speaking up. He held up the coat that had been removed from Jack. "It says property of A.L. Ryerson."

"That was reported stolen earlier today." another officer chimes in.

Rose looks horrified, hurt and helpless at this sudden revelation.

"I..I just borrowed it, I was going to return it I swear," Jack says, staring at Rose with wide and pleading eyes.

Rose did not know what to believe now, she wants to collapse on the deck in a heap and cry. She wants to help Emma, Peter, and Jack, but she is ensnared in Cal's carefully planned web of deceit. She feels so betrayed and hurt, that she prays that this is all a dream.

"He didn't do anything!" Emma wails anxiously.

Murdoch stands at attention and eyes the confusing scene in front of him. "Take this one away. The master at arms will have his way with him."

"I didn't do anything...Rose Please! You know I didn't do this...! Please! You know I didn't do this! Rose!" Jack calls back as he's forced out of their sight.

Rose can feel the tears welling up in her eyes as Jack disappears.

Emma stands up and grabs the arm of Officer Murdoch, which he promptly shakes off.

"Please sir he's innocent, he was only trying to protect..."

"The child is obviously distressed and in need of attention." Cal cuts it. "Perhaps she should be sedated or taken somewhere quiet and separate to recover."

Emma glares at Cal and turns back to the officer.

"Please, listen to the other woman Rose, the only monster is..." She stops and rushes back to where Peter is being taken away on a stretcher.

William Murdoch goes up behind Emma and grabs her arm with a firm, but gentle grip. He offers her his coat. She watches helplessly as Peter is taken to the infirmary.

"Young lady," he says gently. "You have been through quite a lot. I'm not going to force you but I might suggest you come to the officers' quarters for some tea and to settle yourself down."

Emma has no words left. She's crying so hard, her head is spinning. She accepts that she was a mess, but she herself is also helpless to do anything else. No one would believe her in her state of mind. Her shoulders slump in absolute defeat, she sniffles again before residing to the officer's gentle suggestion. But as he leads her away she gives one last, almost hateful look at Rose before vanishing through the door.


	15. Chapter 14: Turning Tables

Chapter 14: Turning Tables

Before Rose knew it, she is being led back to their cabin, Sybil still in her arms.

Once her eyes met the bright lights as Cal opens the door for her she swallows hard again. Cal says nothing to her either, perhaps basking in the glory of his victory and how well his plan has played out. Rose slowly goes the couch and lays Sybil down next to her. The child has settled enough to be sleeping soundly. She immediately goes into the mother role, tending to Sybil in any way possible. She takes another blanket from the bed and wraps Sybil up again, making sure she is warm. She also took a handkerchief and wiped the child's eyes and nose to ensure that she was safe. She could feel a small comfort of putting someone's needs before her own. She felt a little at peace.

That is until she stands up.

Cal strikes her across the face so hard she falls to the floor.

What had been slowly brewing inside of Cal through the entire ordeal comes out in this method of abuse.

"Just like a little slut isn't it" Cal hisses, Rose could hear the venom in his words.

Rose's face stung like never before, but Cal wasn't done with her. He grabs her roughly and pulls her to her feet.

"And look at me when I'm talking to you," he orders. He shakes her so hard that she falls to the floor again.

Rose grabs a hold of the mantle piece to pull herself back up to face this evil man. She shifts away, back to the couch to prevent Cal from slapping her again. She feels so weak and helpless now that she can't bear it any further. In pure and angered disdain, she snatches Sybil up and runs into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She puts a chair in front of it to prevent anyone else from entering.

The door immediately begins rattling as Cal's voice comes from behind it.

"You little whore!" She can hear Cal yelling all the obscenities he can think of. "Your mother will certainly hear of this... slutty little b-."

Rose sits against the back wall, cradling Sybil as best she can. She places the small child on her knees and lets the tears fall freely.

She has never felt so foolish in her life and how betrayed she was by everything. She couldn't decide who to believe and she kicks herself for not speaking up when she had the chance. The chance to save Peter from a crippling wound, save Jack from arrest and Emma from the heartache of betrayal.

 _She probably hates me now._ Rose thinks to herself. _Emma will wish my death now and I deserve it._

It shouldn't have mattered if Cal had stabbed her, she should have said something. She was so confident that she would get that happily ever after that she failed to see the trap being sprung on her. She had been blinded, realizing that love isn't the happy fairy tale that Emma and Peter had on the bow at sunset. There were complications of family and fiancees. Emma and Peter made it look so easy to follow. Love was not smooth sailing at all.

She wipes her tears on her arm and looks at Sybil sleeping against her legs, despite the racket that Cal is creating behind the door. Rose cries even harder then, staring at the face of the one who she had let down the most. An innocent child caught in the complex world and used as a catalyst to further such an evil man's plan. She had now managed to get her adopted father shot and her sister in a separated and hateful state.

Sybil opens her eyes and yawns. Her bright blue eyes seem to light up the room around them. A curl of blonde hair sticks out from under her bonnet as her eyes take in the mess that is Rose DeWitt Bukater. She reaches a tiny hand up from the multiple blankets that bundle her and seems to wave at the one who is caring for her. She then smiles, gurgling from possible recognition of Rose. She waves her arm harder and begins to squeal, waiting for Rose to respond.

Rose's green eyes meet he infant's and she takes a deep breath. Something inside her snaps and she lifts the child to her face and gives a small kiss on her forehead.

"I will make this right Sybil. I promise," she whispers, making a family vow.

Suddenly there is a knock on their cabin door. Rose hears Cal go to answer it, allowing her to stand up with Sybil. She gets closer and listens to the voices behind the heavy oak door.

"Terribly sorry sir but..."

"Can't you see we're busy."

"So sorry to bother you sir, but it is the Captains orders that you get yourself a lifebelt and go onto the boat deck." the voice says.

"Why? Why would such procedure's be ordered?" Cal snorts

"Everything will be alright sir, but the ship is in a state of emergency. We suggest that you follow suit for the safety of your wife and child."

Cal turns to see Rose standing with Sybil, clearly waiting for the means to escape, to set things right. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she makes her way to the door.

"Which way officer?" she asks.

...

Ruth Bukater is wringing her hands out in a worrisome fashion. She stands among other high-class ladies and gentlemen in either night clothes or formal attire, all in the Grand Staircase area. She pulls her gloves on tightly and goes to the maid, Trudy, to distract herself.

"Trudy please make sure that the heater is on for when we return, I'd hate to come back to a chilled cabin."

"Yes ma'me" Trudy nods and leaves the ballroom.

Ruth wrings her gloves in her hands now until she sees her daughter Rose coming with her fiancee Caledon, the answer to their financial prayers.

"Oh, Rose darling!" Ruth says, pulling her daughter into an embrace, squashing Sybil between them. She pulls from the hug and removes grime from her daughter's cheek. "I'm so glad you're okay. I heard everything, I'm so glad you are alright. Look at this bruise, that boy must have hit you so hard in that robbery."

"Mother I..."

Suddenly, Mr. Andrews, the ship's designer comes up with the two women to address the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen will you please proceed in an orderly fashion towards the lifeboats."

Ruth turns from Rose to Molly, completely ignoring Sybil in Rose's arms.

Molly Brown moved away from Ruth and over to Rose, sensing her distress. She put her arm around Rose and touches Sybil's blankets

Rose feels sick to her stomach then, she turns away from her mother and goes to Mr. Andrews.

"Mr. Andrews please..." she says softly. "I saw the iceberg and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."

Mr. Andrews gives her a grim expression and swallows hard. He leans in carefully.

"The ship is sinking Rose."

Rose covers her mouth with her free hand and Molly's eyes became wide.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes in an hour or so... everything... will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"My god!" Molly gasped and sucked in a sharp breath. Cal who resides behind them puts his hand over his mouth.

"Please only tell who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic. Get yourselves and the child to a lifeboat. Don't wait. You do remember what I told you about the lifeboats?"

Rose nods slowly. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"The only thing you can do now is to get yourself to safety." he says.

Rose looks distant and swallows hard. She knew she had to do more than that. Mr. Andrews leaves their side and walks slowly away.

...

Meanwhile, Jack is staring out of one of the portholes, seeing the water levels rise ever so slowly. His heart is pounding and he too swallows hard. He had been handcuffed to a pipe by Lovejoy and the Master at Arms.

A crewman suddenly enters and runs to the Master of Arms.

"Sir, you're wanted by the purser. Urgently!"

"Go ahead, I'll watch him," Lovejoy says, pulling out his master's pistol and holding it up in front of Jack. The two men leave in a hurry, after tossing the keys to Lovejoy. The butler makes himself comfortable in a nearby chair watching Jack with almost hungry eyes.

"Don't even think of trying anything funny." he threatens, putting his foot on the deck.

Jack tries to avoid the butler's eyes, becoming more anxious by the minute.

...

The group is being escorted out onto the boat deck with their lifebelts in hand.

"Women and children first please, orderly fashion please." An officer calls ordering them along.

Ruth comes up with the women and man, still chatting away.

"Rose darling come this way, please. Get rid of that infant. They all say that it is a precaution, they'll make themselves look like heroes."

Molly climbs into a boat without hesitation."Come on sister, you're next."

"I do hope the boats are divided by class, I don't want to be crowded." Ruth mutters.

Rose snapped then and there.

" Just shut up Mother!" She pulls her mother close so they were eye to eye. "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats. Not even for half. Half the people on this ship are going to die."

"Not the better half," Cal says grimly. "Too bad I didn't save that drawing of you. It'll be worth a lot more by morning."

Realization hits Rose like a lightning bolt. The surge of power and confidence that she needs.

"You unimaginable bastard." she hisses.

"Come on Ruth get in the boat." Molly calls. "The first class seats are right up here. That's it."

Rose watches as her mother steps into the boat with the assistance of the officer and Molly.

"Rose you're next sweetie, give the baby to me," Molly says, holding her arms out.

Rose stops and looks down at Sybil, sleeping in her arms.

"Rose!" Ruth crows. "Rose get into the boat!"

Rose swallows and takes a step back.

"Rose?!" Ruth says. "Rose now!"

"Goodbye mother," Rose says, feeling the spark that Jack had talked about empowering her. She had to fix things.

Clinging to Sybil tightly she begins to run back into the ship, that is until Cal grabs her free arm, almost causing her to drop Sybil.

"Where are you going?" he gasps. "What to him? To be a whore to a gutter rat?"

Rose glares at him. "I'd rather be his whore than your wife."

Cal continues to clutch Rose in his grip. Rose chucks up and spits in Cal's face, just as Jack had taught her to.

She manages to slip away into the crowd.


	16. Chapter 15: Plan for Action

Chapter 15: Plan for Action

Emma wipes her eyes with the handkerchief Rose had given her, as she sits in the officer's quarters. A cup of steaming tea sits next to her, which she has not touched and a warm blanket is draped over her shoulders. Neither acts of consideration have done anything to comfort her. Her stomach boils up with the anger of Rose betraying her, just standing there while the innocent man that Rose had feelings for, was framed for something he didn't do. And then she allowed the evil bastard Cal separate her from her husband and left her in the care of clueless officers. The ship was sinking and she was alone.

Her nightmare was worse than she thought. Everyone she cared about had either been taken away or betrayed her. She was alone on a sinking ship.

Sudden footsteps start thundering outside the door. Emma gets up and puts her ear to the door.

"How are the evacuations going?" one officer says.

"Terrible, the first class is convinced that the ship won't sink and it's all just a big joke. It's not easy to convince people to get in tiny boats without causing a panic." the other answers.

There's a prolonged silence between the two and Emma's heart beats faster in distress.

"How long does she have?" one whispers.

"The captain says less than two hours."

Another voice rings out.

"All hands on deck!"

Emma hears the pounding footsteps become more distance as they run towards the third voice.

Emma knows she has to find Peter and get him up to a lifeboat. She knew the laws of the sea, women, and children first, but she wasn't about to let the law separate them forever. Especially if he was wounded, he had narrowly escaped death once and he wasn't going to get the chance to die again if Emma had anything to say about it.

She grabs a hold of the doorknob and twists it hard.

Her heart drops to her stomach. The damn thing was locked! Why would they even...?

She begins banging on the door.

"Hello! Hello! Someone help me! Someone, please help I'm in here! Help!"

She bangs harder, using all her strength to make sure someone heard her, but it was no use, the officers had all gone up to the boat deck to help with evacuation and the noise above was drowning out her voice.

"Why the hell do these doors lock on the outside anyway?!" Emma asks herself, realizing that she'll have to save herself.

She looked for something heavy to ram the door open with. She grabs the chair that she'd been sitting on. She puts it on her shoulder and charges at the door. The first attempt did nothing to the door except give it a large dent. On the second try, the mark got larger. Emma hoped that third time was the charm, but the door remains sturdy and immovable.

Not panicking, Emma taps on the door. Heavy oak, she puts her hand on the wall and knocked on it. It was almost hollow and a more likely to break. She took the top of the chair and rammed beside the door. The chair went completely through, making a hole big enough for her arm to fit through. She feels for the doorknob and unlocks the latch.

Finally free, Emma runs up the end of the hallway to the cross area. She could hear the noises of people being herded through, she opened the door onto the deck. Several people rush past her in a frenzy. She knew that she needed to find the closest staircase. She runs down the deck and finds the first door with her vicinity, she slips through and finds another maze of corridors. She could hear people moving about above her like scared mice. She had no time to panic and keeps her mind on Peter.

She manages to find her way to where the Grand Staircase was located. There were many people milling about as officers were handing out lifebelts and giving directions. Emma manages to slip around all of them and start taking the stairs down. She was passing several people. She knew exactly where she had to go, the hospital was next to the second class dining hall.

She gets to D deck and began running through the dining hall, all of which had been set as if waiting for people to come and eat. Emma gets to the door and forces her way in.

"Peter!" she calls anxiously into the hospital wing. No one was around at all, she assumed that the doctors and nurses had evacuated. "Peter! Peter!"

"Peter Whitman where are you?!" she yells.

A distant moan is heard down the wing and Emma starts racing towards it. She pulls back on of the curtains to find Peter laying on a hospital bed with his leg up.

Emma races over and pulls Peter into a kiss.

"Oh thank god!" she breathes between the kisses.

"Emma what's wrong?" Peter moans. It seems as if he's just waking up from being unconscious.

"There's no time to explain." Emma pants. "We have to get on deck. The ship is going down."

"I don't know if I can." Peter whispers.

Emma tries to guide his leg down to the floor, but Peter gasps as a sharp pain hits his leg. Emma sees that Peter's wound has been bandaged, but nothing further has occurred. Emma assumes that the doctors and nurses abandoned him because Peter would just slow their escape to safety. But Emma wasn't going to let that happen. She would never leave Peter's side again.

"Put your arms on me," Emma says, going under, helping Peter into a standing position. Peter gasps again as pressure is applied to where he was hit.

They start moving slowly towards the exit, limping all the way. Emma's heart is pounding in her ears. They are moving at a snail's pace, they'll be underwater by the time they reach the boat deck.

They are both halfway across the dining room when the ship jolts suddenly, sending many plates and cutlery to the ground. This creates more obstacles for them to face. It's as if someone doesn't want them to make it, even give them a chance to survive this.

"Come on!" Emma says. She knows now that if they try to take the stairs, they'd never make it.

They start moving to the elevator. Emma feels like the weight of the entire ship is on her shoulders as she practically drags Peter to the ornate, golden iron bars that lead to the elevator.

She presses the button and sits down to rest with Peter next to her. He's having a hard time staying conscious.

"Stay with me." She whispers, dragging her hand down the side of his face. "I can't lose you. Not now"

"You won't." he pants. He doesn't know if he has much strength left to even make it to the boats. When Cal hit him, he stumbled backward, whacking his head on the deck, knocking him out cold. The next thing he could remember was hearing voices and he felt a bed around him. He felt something sharp lodged in his left leg and the pulsing in his head. He felt something go into his arm and pressure to the wound area. He blacked out again. He awoke again when Emma was screaming for him. He thought at first he was either dead or dreaming, but Emma's kiss brought him back to reality. Peter knew he had to stay alive. He loved Emma and he never wanted to leave her alone ever again. She had lost too many people close to her heart for her to bear and if he were to die...she just might die along with him.

The elevator dings and an attendant gasps when he saw the two of them.

"Help me!" Emma barks at the attendant. He scrambles to help Peter into the elevator. Once the bars surround them, the attendant hits the button for the top floor, not needing to be told anything further.

Emma stays next to Peter the entire way up, holding his hand. She starts saying a prayer under her breath as the ship shakes again.

Once the elevator makes it to the top, the couple stumbles out and towards the boats.

A gentleman sees the two of them and runs to their aid.

"Grab his one side." Emma pants and the man does so.

The group makes it into the bitterly cold air, cooling the sweating newlyweds. Loud rockets whistle in the air and explode in a shower of sparks around them. Emma knew what rockets at sea meant. She knew the ship didn't have much longer

...

Meanwhile, below decks, Jack is frantically trying to free himself from his own prison made by the officers. His captor, Lovejoy, seems to enjoy Jack's discomfort, most likely because of what the two lovers had caused him with their so-called chase. He continued to roll the bullets from his master's gun along the table.

"You know I do believe this ship may sink."

Jack glares at Lovejoy.

"And since the ship is sinking, I'd like to leave you a token of affection from Caledon Hockley," Lovejoy said, standing up.

He took the butt of the gun and slammed it into Jack's stomach.

"Might I suggest you consult Mr. Hockley before you go running off with his fiancee."

Jack's doubles over in pain, gasping for breath, which gives Lovejoy the chance to pocket the key and exit the room.

When the pain subsides, Jack knows he's in a difficult situation. He tries yelling for help and clanging the pipe, trying to get someone's attention.

"HELLO! ANYONE THERE?! PLEASE HELP ME!."

Jack exhausts himself yelling, but still no help comes.

The trickle of water is slowly making its way into the room.

"Oh, crap!" Jack hisses. He climbs on top of a nearby desk to escape the water, trying to pull himself out of the cuffs.

He tries yelling once more.

...

"EMMA!"

Emma turns to the sound of her name. She can't see who it is through the crowd of people, but she heard it as clear as day.

"Emma!" Rose screams, pushing her way through the crowd with Sybil in her arms.

Emma sucks in a sharp breath with the red headed woman approaching her. Her feelings are mixed about seeing Rose, one of which being of relief that Sybil was safe too. She hobbled towards the nearest boat that was being loaded.

"Emma please I'm sorry." Rose cries. "I know I was a coward, but Cal had a knife on me I swear."

Emma turns to the back stabber.

Rose gives her a pleading look. "Please Emma, you don't have to forgive me, but at least, help me free him."

Emma stares at Rose for a long moment. She wanted with all her heart to believe Rose's words and something told her that Rose was being truthful. The bruise on her cheek told her that she had taken abuse from Cal, and it looks like she escaped his clutches, the entire time keeping Sybil safe. But what Rose was proposing was pure insanity, to go into a half-submerged ship to rescue an arrested man. At the same time...Rose needed someone, she couldn't go into the bowels of the ship without help, she and Jack at least need a chance. A chance to save the two lovers that she'd promised to help protect them no matter what the cost. If Rose was telling the truth about Cal, than an innocent man was basically sentenced to death. She'd help Rose.

"You're crazy. No one in their right mind would go down there with the entire thing flooding faster than a stampede of horses... but I'm not"

"Not what?" Rose asks.

"In their right mind. Just help me get Peter into a boat."

"Next please." an officer yells out. "We need a few men to row."

Emma puts her hand up.

"Thank you." the officer

"Wait what? Emma are you insane?" Peter says, still out of it slightly. "Emma, You can't go back in there."

Several officers begin helping Peter climb the ladder into the boat. He begins resisting, pushing back.

"Don't fight it, son," an officer says.

"Emma I'm not leaving without you..."

Emma leans forwards, knowing that she'd sworn they wouldn't be separated again, but Rose needed help and so did Jack. "I need someone to care for Sybil."

"I need you!" Peter says, trying not to tear up.

"I need you too, but if I know you're safe with Sybil then I'll breathe a little bit easier."

"What Rose is suggesting is suicide!"

"No, you resisting is suicide. Women and children first remember. If you and Sybil are safe than I..." She bites her lip hard. She could die peacefully knowing that Sybil had someone there for her. "If you're safe, I'll be safe, please do this for me. I couldn't go on if something happened to you"

"I couldn't go on if something happened to you!" he says back.

"You'll have to for Sybil's sake." Emma whispers.

"We can't be separated again."

"It won't be forever. I promise." Emma promises. Her stomach twists into a knot, knowing this was a hollow promise. The next hour or so is unpredictable, but Emma knew there was still a chance she could get in a lifeboat later. This, however, was Peter's only chance. "I will find you again. I will be okay!" she says firmly.

Peter's eyes well up in tears, he grabs her hand. Emma leans forward and kisses him harder than she has ever done before. She knows this might be the last time she'll see Peter, but someone had to take her sister, someone had to protect her.

"I'll get in a later boat I promise."

"You promise?" Peter whispers.

"Family vow," she says.

Peter kisses her once more before being helped into the boat by two other men who were going to row the boat as well.

Emma turns to Rose. Rose kisses Sybil on the forehead and makes sure she has enough blankets to remain warm. With shaky arms, she hands Sybil to Emma. Emma takes a long look at Sybil, tears filling her eyes. She just wanted this all to be a dream, a very bad nightmare, she'd wake up warm in bed and hear Sybil babbling in her cradle and turn over into Peter's awaiting arms. They'd cuddle for as long as they can and then get up and make breakfast together, sipping on warm tea and eating pancakes. But this was real, a nightmare coming true.

She kisses her sister's cheek, forehead and then her other cheek.

"Be safe." she sniffles. Then she leans in and whispers in her sister's ear. "I promise to love and care for you forever and always."

The sacred vow that she just might break tonight with the choice she was making. If she couldn't love and care for Sybil, she knew Peter would, which is why she was saying goodbye now.

Sybil sighs softly in her sleep and Emma squints her eyes shut as the tears flow freely. With shaky arms, she hands the bundle down to the officer who puts her in the hands of one of the women on board. The woman cradles the child expertly.

"Lower away!" The officer yells.

Emma steps back, locking eyes with Peter for what it seemed like the last time. That is until the boat vanished from sight completely.

Emma swallows her sadness and began replacing it with courage and strength, she knew she would need it.


	17. Chapter 16: Water Levels Rising

Chapter 16: Water Levels Rising

Emma follows behind Rose as they shove their way through the crowd towards the Grand Staircase

"What's the plan?" Emma asks.

"Find Jack before the ship sinks." Rose answers.

"Brilliant." Emma mutters.

Rose ignores the comment when she spots a familiar face that can help them.

"Mr. Andrews! Mr. Andrews!" Rose yells, catching the man's shoulder.

"Miss Rose what are you doing? Get to a lifeboat."

"Mr. Andrews where would the master of arms keep someone who was under arrest?"

"Rose," the designer warns.

"Please, Mr. Andrews, someone I love very much is in terrible danger. We need to get him. We will do this with or without your help. It's just without will take longer."

The tired man sighs, seeing the determination in this young girl's eyes. Her assistant is slightly more reluctant, but nonetheless won't let Rose go alone.

"Very well, Take the elevator to the very bottom. E deck. Go left, down the crewman's corridor and make a right."

"Left, down and right got it!"

"Hurry my children."

"Yes, sir." Rose nods.

The two run towards the elevator. The attendant attempts to stop them.

"The lifts are closed ma'me

Rose so flustered and stressed, pushes the attendant into the elevator.

"TAKE US DOWN!" Rose barks. "I'm through with being polite dammit. Take us down!"

Reluctantly, the attendant does what the red head wants. Emma closes the doors

"E deck." Emma says.

The attendant running the lift recognizes Emma from earlier. He cranks the handle down and turns to the second passenger.

"You've gotta be some kind of crazy to back down again." he comments.

"Gotta be the hero." Emma smirks.

As they descend, all aboard can hear the tricking of water until the elevator drops right into a lake of cold water, spraying everyone and soaking them to the bone. Rose fights to open the golden bars. Emma takes a few deep breaths in order to allow her body to adjust to the cold. The attendant tries to reverse the lever to go back up but Rose shoves him out of the way. She manages to open the gate for the two girls to squeeze through.

"I'm going back up! I'm going back up!" the attendant hollers.

Emma manages to lock eyes with the attendant. "Thank you." She says as the attendant disappears upwards.

Rose looked around them, taking in the flooding hallways. The frigid waters of the Atlantic were trickling in at a rapid pace, filling up and reaching the girls' waists.

Emma suddenly goes underwater.

Rose lets out a screech, but then Emma reappears, soaking wet and panting.

"What the hell was that?!" Rose screeches, scared that Emma had been dragged under.

"I work better when I'm used to the temperature." Emma explains. Her body was now numb, but she could do it, she had been in cold waters before.

"We need to find Jack!" Rose yells.

"And find another way out." Emma adds. "You find Jack and I'll find us another way out."

"Fine." Rose agrees.

The two begin sloshing through the water, down the hall among the lights that were now flickering to stay lit. the water level gradually got lower as they worked their way along, feeling some relief from the cold.

"Jack!" Rose calls out. "Jack!"

Meanwhile, inside Jack swears that he is hearing things until the voice comes to him again.

"JACK!"

"Rose!" Jack hollers in joy, hardly believing that she came to save him. "Rose I'm in here! ROSE!" Jack bangs his handcuffs against the pipe to attract her attention

The girls begin heading towards the noise until they come to a split hallway.

"I'll go this way and see if I can find a way out." Emma says. She leans forward and hugs Rose. "See you soon." she adds. Both women know full well that this may or may not be true, but it gave them some hope.

Rose nods and heads towards Jack's voice.

"Jack!" Rose says, entering the room.

"Oh, Rose!" Jack breaths. So overjoyed, Rose throws her arms around Jack.

"Jack, Jack, Jack, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she says, her tears pouring down her face.

"Cal had his butler put it in my pocket."

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry Cal had a knife on me I swear! I couldn't do anything" she gives into her passions and kisses him hard.

When they break apart Jack speaks up.

"Listen Rose, you're going to have to find a spare key." he tries to nod towards the cabinet across the room. "It's a little silver one Rose."

Soaking wet and cold, Rose rushes over and wrenches the cabinet open. Many of the keys spill out and she begins searching through them frantically.

"These are all brass ones" she cries.

"The desk, Rose try the desk."

Rose wrenches open the drawers and searches.

"Rose?" Jack asks.

Rose looks up.

"How did you figure out that I didn't do the robbery?"

"I didn't," she says. "Sybil helped me realize what I had done and that I already knew."

Jack gives her small smile and they pause for a moment.

Jack snaps out of it first. "Keep looking" he pants.

Rose does so. "No key, There's no key!" she screeches, her heart beginning to sink, losing hope fast.

Jack takes another deep breath and tries to stay calm. "Then you're going to have to find help Rose. Hurry!" Rose gives him a hopeless look, wondering if she'll make it back in time. "Don't worry it will be alright

Rose nods, realizing that sulking will not solve anything. "I'll be right back!" she says, disappearing into the hall.

"I'll just wait here." Jack mumbles awkwardly.

Rose begins racing through the water again and down the hall.

She hopes of catching a glimpse of Emma and maybe she has a way for both of them to get help.

She begins calling for her.

"Emma! Hello! Anyone, please I need help!" Rose looks down the hallway where Emma vanished and there's water filling rapidly. Rose's heart begins to sink. She calls out for her friend again, but there is nothing, but the sound of the ship creaking and water flowing.

 _She's okay_! Rose tells herself. _She just can't hear you._

Rose finds a staircase and races up, slipping a few times from the water. She finds another empty hallway.

"Hello! Is there anyone here! I need help."

Suddenly a hysterical man rushes past her, bumping her as well. Rose tries to grab the man, but he pulled away too quickly. Rose leans against the wall. Jack is trapped, Emma is missing and she is without help. Tears fill her eyes until a steward rounds the corner and spots her. Her eyes light up and Rose is filled with a rush of hope again.

The steward himself looks pale and terrified. He looks extremely confused as to why Rose would be down here. Rose rushes to him and grabs him.

"Please help me!" Rose says breathlessly. "Please, there's a man trapped below and..."

The steward doesn't seem to be listening.

"Are you crazy lady?!" he says exasperatedly. "You need to go up towards the lifeboats." He grabs her with a strong hand, but Rose resists.

"No, please. You're going the wrong way, someone needs help!" Rose shouts.

The steward still doesn't listen and he overpowers her with his strength, dragging Rose towards the stairs for the upper decks. Helpless Rose impulsively hits the man in the face.

The man stumbles backward in shock. Rose looks on in horror as the man's nose begins to bleed.

"To hell with you" he barks and runs away. He was gone in an instant.

Tears come flowing back up onto her face. She was alone again.

Rose's eye catches a large red box on the wall. The fire hose and ax. Thinking quickly, Rose uses the nozzle to smash the glass to free the fire ax. She grabs it and heads back down.

To her own horror, the water level has risen significantly higher, reaching several of the steps. Still determined to rescue Jack she plunges down into the cold water and uses the ceiling to move along, since the water was now too deep for her to walk through. She clung to the fire ax that dragged her down slightly, but used all her strength to fight the current.

Weaving through the corridors that were darkening from the water shorting out the electricity, Rose's mind goes back to Emma. Where could she be? Was she safe?

She reaches the room and Jack's face lights up with relief. He is standing on a desk, trying to avoid the rising water level.

"Jack! Will this work?" Rose asks.

"We'll find out." he answers. Rose goes towards him, raising the ax up to swing. "Wait, wait, wait" he gasps. "Take a few practice swings first over there." He nods to the wooden cabinet.

Frantically Rose raises the ax up and hits the cabinet, leaving a large slit.

"That's good Rose! Now try to hit it in the exact same spot! You can do it!"

Rose lifts the ax and hits the cabinet, but in a completely different spot. Her heart pounded in her ears, there wasn't much time left, the water was reaching her waist.

"Okay, that's enough practice." Jack sighs nervously. He stretches the chain of the cuffs across the pipe, straining himself to do so. "Okay, Rose swing it really hard and really fast." He braces himself, expecting the worse. "Okay go!"

Rose raises the ax and winces as she brings the ax down with a _CLANG_!

Jack peeked to see what happened. His hands were still attached but also free.

"You did it!" he cried, relieved that he could use his hands freely again. He reaches over and kisses Rose hard.

"Come on" he pants, climbing off the desk. He winces as the cold water hits him. "We have to get out of here."

The two move through the water, away from Jack's prison, Rose leading the way towards where she came.

"EMMA!" Rose hollers. "Emma, where are you?"

"You brought Emma down here?!" Jack says exasperatedly.

"She said she would help, she said she'd find another way out" Rose explained. "Emma!"

"Emma!" Jack joins in.

The two listened, but could not hear anything. Both their hearts begin to sink, thinking the worst of their newly married friend.

Rose can feel the tears and guilt bubbling up inside her.

Jack takes in a deep breath. "She's okay," he says as convincingly as possible. "She's smart, she probably found another way out and got caught up in the crowd."

Rose sighs deeply and looks to where she had come with the ax, there was no way the two of them could escape.

"That was the way out," Rose says.

Jack takes her hand. "We'll just find another way out. Come on!" he says.


	18. Chapter 17: Changing Tides

Chapter 17: Changing Tides

Emma parted with Rose in an attempt to find a way out. The water was frigid and it made everything slippery. The lights flickered constantly, struggling to keep a path for Emma lit, but it was getting harder to do so.

The entire time she searched, she thought of Peter and Sybil, somewhere out on the Atlantic, cold but safe. She worried about Peter's leg and whether he might bleed out before the night ended and then Sybil would be left more an orphan than ever before. Had the ship called for help at all? Would anyone see the white rockets that had been fired earlier? Emma couldn't tell.

She made her way down the hall, searching for a staircase or something that could allow them all to escape. She pushed by an open cabinet door which had probably been opened by the force of the water. Most of the contents were floating at her feet, she was about to take another step when she heard Rose's voice.

"Emma!"

Before she could answer, the ship shifts violently and sent Emma underwater. A current rush of water begins pushing her further and further from where she had heard Rose's voice. She grabs frantically for something for support, but the shock of the cold and the suddenness of the jolt left her floating helplessly. The water is forcing her deeper into the ship and even though she is a strong swimmer, it's hard to go against the current. At one point she's turned upside down. She kicks upwards, but by now it is hard to know which way was up. Emma puts her hand up at what she think is the surface and manages to grab a hold of something. She pulls, knowing her air supply was extremely low.

When her head breaks the surface she lets out a gasp of air.

"Rose!" She called, but there is nothing now. She's too far into the ship to reach her friend. She tries to take in her surroundings, but all she can see is water. The lights are dim and the water seems black and threatening. This is her worst nightmare, the one from a few nights ago, being trapped in these tiny hallways with water slowly filling.

She feels herself panicking, tears fighting their way to the surface against the cold water. Her head is almost against the pipes above and she will run out of air soon. This is how she is going to die, just like her nightmare told her so.

Then Sybil's face comes into her mind. The happy and joyous face with cute little dimples and lively blue eyes, a face she would never see again unless she did something about it. And Peter, her beloved husband who would die sad and alone. His lively blue eyes and blonde hair, the smile that drew her to him, she would never see it again, unless she tried to escape this coffin the Titanic was trying to trap her in.

Finding what strength she had, Emma pushes herself, fighting against the water to swim back from whence she came. She takes a deep breath and dives under, the salt and cold stinging her eyes and the pressure on her ears, but she keeps the images of the family waiting for her on the surface in her mind. She uses the wall to push herself, to give her an advantage and she kicks at whatever is behind her.

She comes up once for air and then dives down again.

She finally finds a stronger ledge and pulls herself forward. The water level decreases enough that she can stand more securely and Emma comes up for air again. There is more light for her to see and to her amazement, there's a large iron gate at the end of the hallway. She assumes that it is what separates the crew and the passengers. She pushes herself forwards and makes her way to the gate.

The water level decreases again so it's only up to her waist. She can see the water leaking through the bars of the gate and filling in the next room. She rattles the metal. The gate is locked and Emma's heart sinks. She is once again trapped on the ship.

"Hello!" She calls out. "Is anyone there?!" She bangs on the bars, hoping to make some noise.

The water is getting higher and Emma sighs. She knows she will have to save herself again.

Emma pulled her hair up to keep it out of her eyes when she feels the family heirloom clinging to the back of her head, hanging on for dear life. She takes it out and looks at the metal teeth of the comb. She looks at the lock on the other side. Again tears come to her eyes.

"I'm sorry Mom and Grandma," she whispers. She hopes her mother would forgive her for ruining the heirloom if it was to save her life.

She thrusts her hands and the heirloom through the bars and to the lock. She bends the metal teeth through the lock and begins to pick at it. She begins praying under her breath as she picks carefully at the lock. She also uses her other hand to guide the metal teeth.

"Forever and always," she whispers through her tears. The water now reaching her neck. "Forever and always."

There is a subtle clunk and Emma's heart drops. She tries the gate and it moves apart. She pushes with all her strength against the water to make a gap between the bars large enough for her. She takes another deep breath, clinging to the heirloom and squeezes through!

She swims towards and set of stairs leading upwards. She pulls on the handrails and climbs the steps, water flowing off of her dress like a waterfall, the entire time keeping the heirloom close. She pulls herself into the upper deck, where the water has not reached. Once she is completely free of the water she starts to stand up. She's shaky and cold, but she knows that she won't be safe until she reaches the upper decks.

She moves along the corridor until she finds another staircase. She climbs as many as she can to get higher up.

Suddenly, she feels a hand on her shoulder. She screams.

An officer in uniform turns her around.

"What are you doing here miss? This is a restricted area for officers only," he asks. "You should up at the life boats."

"I got trapped below decks," Emma says, not really in the mood for dealing with him.

"I can see that."

"Can you please help me get to the boats?" she asks.

"Certainly, but first..." he takes off his blue jacket, decorated with shiny medals and badges and puts it around her.

"Thank you," Emma said, surprised how calm this man was despite the disaster occurring around him. She was also shocked by the act of kindness from this man. often in disasters, it's every man for himself. Emma realizes that this man is doing his duty to help those in need, putting her life over his. Absent-mindedly she puts the heirloom in the pocket of the coat.

"Follow me." he says, taking her hand.

The two make their way down a series of hallways, making sharp turns and weaving around any obstacles. Emma occasionally slips in her shoes and the weight of her wet clothes slows her down, but despite everything, the officer holds onto her and keeps them moving forward.

"That is an awfully nice dress." the officer says. "Too bad about the water." Surprised by his comment Emma realizes that he is trying to distract her from the tragedy occurring around them.

"It was my mother's wedding dress, you see I just got married today."

"Congratulations," he says. "The man who married you is very lucky."

"Thank you," Emma says.

It is then that they reach another iron gate. The officer fumbles with his keys and opens the gate. The two of them climb the stairs. As they go, Emma hears more voices and more movement above them. She breathes a little sigh of relief, glad to be back with other people.

Her mind suddenly goes back to Rose and Jack.

 _Did they get out okay? Were they affected by the jolt from the ship? Are the trapped too?_

She does her best to keep her feet moving, fighting the urge to go back and find her friends. She had played the hero enough for now and she needed to focus on herself...for now.

 _They're okay._ she said to herself. _They might be at the boats already._

The officer finally pulls her up to a door that opens into the cold night air.

They meet a crowd of people, either dressed in night clothes or evening wear. Emma assumes from the fanciness of the clothes that they are on the upper decks with the first class people. The two of them try their best to weave through the throngs of people. Emma can hear music playing nearby, but the atmosphere is more rushed and frantic. Her heart beats anxiously as the officer does his best to stay with her.

"Women and children first please." A voice over a megaphone yells. "Women and children first."

There are some people who are crying and others who are pushing forward towards the boats, taking Emma and the officer with them. More rockets fly up into the sky, trying desperately to attract attention.

Emma suddenly trips and falls forward, crashing into other people and letting go of the officer's hand. She cries out, but her call for distress is lost in the thousands of others like it. She can feel the frantic feet of people forcing their way forward. She does her best to fight her way up to stop them from trampling her.

When she stands up, all she can see are people and the water.

The officer had vanished into the crowd and she was alone.

Knowing that the others around her would not help in any way, Emma knew what she had to do. She would have to save herself


	19. Chapter 18: Breaking Point

Chapter 18: Breaking Point

Emma is now lost in a panicking crowd. It seems to her that she's the only sane one left. She's forced forward by the advancing people, reality setting in at last. She's being tossed around like a rag doll so much she's wondering if it's even worth getting into a boat anymore.

She pulls the coat tighter around her, attempting to keep her body heat in. Tears are flowing down her cheeks, her fate mysterious and possibly at an end

Several gunshots ring out as an officer attempts to keep the crowds back, but it causes more panic. There are several screams and more crying, Emma one of them.

She tries to run away from the horrors and goes past a first class band playing a sonnet she recognizes. She stops and watches them in amazement, despite everything that is happening, they remain calm, playing to comfort those who are dying.

Emma goes up to the nearest violin player and digs around in the pocket of the officer's coat. Sure enough, she finds a few coins. She places them on the violinist's lap. The man looks up at her in confusion but then smiles.

"For a job well done," Emma says.

"Any requests my child?" he asks quietly.

 _"Come and See, Come Let us by Heart,"_ She answers, tears in her eyes. The only hymn that she could remember from her Sundays in Church with her family.

The leader of the band shouts the number and the musicians take their positions. The soft, sweet melody radiates out into the panicking crowd. Emma's eyes fill with tears again and she smiles.

"Thank you." she says. The band nods at her and Emma starts moving towards the stern and possibly a lifeboat. She knows most of them are gone by now, but if there is a chance to get aboard, she'll take it, despite the chaos and the seemingly pointless hope of doing so. She heads towards a large crowd of people, many screaming and crying, hoping for help.

She fights her way to the front until she hears the words...

"Lower away!" from a nearby officer.

She makes it to the rail and sighs, that hope was indeed pointless from the beginning. She didn't make it. She fights back more tears and leans over the railing next to the divots to watch the boat being lowered into the black sea.

 _At least their safe..._ she sighs.

She watches from the crowded railing and suddenly a woman with long curly red hair suddenly leaps back onto the ship.

"Is she insane?" Emma gasps. It suddenly dawns on her, the red curly hair, doing something so dangerous...

"Rose!" Emma screeches.

She sees the woman climb back over just about a deck lower from where she stands. She does some calculating and knows where to find the woman.

Emma begins shoving through the crowd, trying to make her way inside. She needs to see her friends for is maybe the last time they will ever see each other. Her heart beats quickly, maybe there is hope that they can all escape and see the morning light. It seems like such a silly hope, but it's still there for her to grasp onto.

"EMMA!" Rose yells. Emma turns to see her friends standing at the foot of the Grand Staircase.

Emma runs forward and embraces her friends, tears in her eyes.

"Oh my God Emma!" Rose wails. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine how are you. Jack?"

Jack smiles and hugs Emma tightly.

"I knew you'd make it up here, I knew you would!"

This happy moment seemed so silly considering the situation they were in, but a reunion nonetheless. If any of them make it off the ship, this would be a moment of remembrance.

"Was that you who jumped out of the boat?" Emma asks.

"It was," Rose said. "I couldn't leave Jack. I just couldn't"

"That was stupid but very gutsy." Emma smiled meekly. She knew she would do the same if Peter was the one staying. "That's how I could tell it was you. Now we need to find a way to avoid the water."

"We need to stay on the ship as long as possible," Jack says. "We need to go towards the stern."

Meanwhile Cal had watched the entire scene of Rose jumping back unfold. He could not believe how stupid Rose was and how impulsive she could be, something he had attempted to suppress in her when they were engaged. He at first couldn't believe that Rose had managed to rescue the gutter rat in the first place, but to see the three as they embraced in petty joy made him sick to his stomach. He had managed to put a bullet in the one boy, who was probably going to bleed to death. Now he desperately wanted to put one on the girl too. He meant it when he threatened to shoot all three of them, they had ruined his engagement to Rose and encouraged her to run off with a man she just met. His hands shake inside his coat as his anger boils up to an unbelievable level. he grips the silver revolver he managed to retrieve after Jack was forced to drop it when he was arrested. He grips the trigger angrily debating whether God would damn him for all eternity for doing so. He might hit other people...but his reasoning... _they are going to die anyways, lets put them out of their misery_.

He and Lovejoy follow the trio as they make their way outside, moving with the crowd, now that most of the boats were gone, hoping to stay on the ship as long as possible in hopes of rescue. Cal knew that the water was freezing and staying aboard longer increased a chance of survival in the treacherous seas. His finger shifts on the trigger several times in his pocket. He inhales sharply, there is a gap in the crowd where it is only the three of them moving, he whips out the gun and aims. Cocking the back, Cal squeezes the trigger.

A sharp pain hits Emma's shoulder the she stumbles backwards. Jack and Rose can only watch helplessly as the force of the bullet hitting her upper arm forces Emma over the railing and into the water before anyone could stop her.

"NO!" Rose screams in horror, her heart breaking in two. She has little time to do anything before another gunshot rings out. Jack grabs her arm and the two run through a door and into the freezing water inside once again. More gun shots ring out behind them, Rose screams and they're forced to wade through the water again, back towards the stern. Cal having no regrets for what he has done pursues them until he knows it is fruitless. The two of them were going to die together, despite everything, they would no longer bother him.

"I hope you enjoy your time together!" he yells over the rushing water and goes to see


	20. Chapter 19: Dark Water

Chapter 19: Dark Water

 _Where am I right now? Everything is dark..._

 _Is this what it's like to be dead?_

 _Dark and cold._

 _I can't really breathe... I must be dead..._

 _It's not as painful as I thought it would be...at least I could see my parents...and Nana... They miss me... As I miss them._

 _Why does my arm hurt so bad? I really can't breathe..._

 _Where is the light you see when you die?_

 _What is that pounding? Do I still have a heartbeat?_

 _My arm is stinging... I must be alive..._

 _Where am I?_

 _Where are Jack and Rose? Peter and Sybil?_

 _Sybil!_

Emma's eyes open and she sees lights of the _Titanic_ reflecting at her. Emma pushes herself to the surface, fighting the cold and her arm. She breaks the surface and gasps for air. Her eyes and nose are burning. Her arm is killing her and she can't tell if she's crying or not. She knows she has to swim away from the ship...the suction will certainly kill her...just like her dream!

Emma kicks as hard as she can, going back to those days on the lake where her father and mother taught her how to swim. Keep the legs straight and use the arms...arm. The pain! It's so intense she has to stop and gasp for air. Now she remembers everything. The gun! Someone shot her and she went over the railing... it wasn't an accident...

Emma snaps back to the reality at hand. She needs to get away, a ship as mighty as the Titanic has a lot of suction.

She does side-stroke to give her wounded arm a chance to rest. She kicks desperately to get away, but the cold is slowing her down. She doesn't want to bear to look back any longer. All the people still aboard.

Something hard hits her gut and the cold multiplies it by a thousand. Emma turns to see a deck chair floating amongst the waves. It must've washed off in the chaos. She grabs ahold of it. It doesn't provide much buoyancy, but it can keep her head above water. She sits on it for a few moments.

 _Please, God help me_! Emma thinks desperately. Everything in her dream is coming true, the ship is going down...on its maiden voyage. This will be a story for the ages. She can't tell if she's crying or not, she's soaked to the bone and her hair is frozen stiff.

 _Don't look back! For the love of all... Don't look back!_

Emma slowly turns her head, putting pressure on her shoulder wound. Through glossy eyes, she looks.

The might ship is tilting ever so slowly, higher and higher into the air. The lights are still burning brightly, above and below the water. There's a certain beauty to it, the lights illuminating the dark waters and the staunch form of the ship, rising up towards heaven. That could be something to draw...

Shame washes over Emma, seeing beauty during tragedy and death. She can see people struggling on the upper decks to stay away from the water. They look like tiny bees buzzing, trying to stay together. Two of the Funnels of the massive ship have gone down and a terrible noise rips the cries for help. The lines snap and the third funnel falls.

Clinging to the deck chair, Emma watches, tears frozen to her face. The lights suddenly flicker and go out. Darkness hits her like a brick wall. Her eyes adjust as Darkness descends upon her, but the screams of all the people still on board echo in her ears. Emma continues to kick the chair in front of her, further and further away.

Clinging to the deck chair, Emma watches, tears frozen to her face. The lights suddenly flicker and go out. Darkness descends upon her, but the screams of all the people still on board echo in her ears. Emma continues to kick the chair in front of her, further and further away.

 _I want to drown now, then I don't have to hear this..._

A tremendous boom echoes across the water. Emma does her best not to look back, but in her heart, she knows what is happening. The ship is breaking in two. The screams become more intense and the horrible sound of metal and wood breaking apart and splashing into the water. Kicking onward, Emma knows she has to get as far away as possible

Emma closes her eyes.

"Only God can help us now."

The sound of the sea hissing as it consumes the last of the ship and the god awful screams of those still on it echo along the surface.

 _Now the cold will just kill me... I can't die now. I need to see Sybil again! Peter needs to see me again. I won't be taken like this. Sybil needs to have a family to love her!_

Her hand hits something. She reaches up and feels the texture of this large object.

 _A boat!_

Emma's heart skips a few beats. God is trying to save her...the only problem is... it's upside down and there are no people in it!

 _It can still save my life...!_ She thinks.

Swimming underneath she reaches up, under the boat. She feels the seats underneath and pulls herself up from the water. Despite the blinding pain from where she was shot, she pulls herself until her stomach rests on the seat of the lifeboat and she's completely out of the water.

"Exposure can kill as easily as a knife." she whispers to herself.

Emma does her best to curl up into a ball and conserve the heat she has left. She knows the wood can provide some kind of insulation and keep her warm. the coat the officer gave her provides little protection anyways. She feels like she's in some sort of shell, providing some protection...Some... The screams of all the people freezing and dying in the water still echo in her head. The boat is constantly rocking about. Emma's stomach flips a few times. There must be people trying to get on top of the boat. Emma wonders if she should try and find room for herself up there. She notices the more people try to climb on, the more air is being let out, and the closer she gets to the water.

She can feel fresh tears coming to her eyes. They are warm something to keep her. Emma prays that Jack and Rose aren't among them. Peter...what he is thinking? He's probably crying, cursing Rose and her for going back on the ship, while cradling her sister. There are a million ways she could have died tonight. Trapped in the flooding halls, the shot could have hit a little higher, one of the funnels could have crushed her or the suction could have dragged her under to join the ship at the bottom of the ocean. The cold water can still kill her, but she's out for now. There is a possibility that this part will run out of air eventually, but she decides to stay put. She could bleed out from her wound, but she has to hang on for as long as possible.

There is very dark water below. Not an ounce of light is showing. It's dark and cold. Emma tries to look away and ignore the sound of the lapping water. She knows that any minute the darkness would swallow her further and pull her down, down to join the ship at the bottom. As a child, she had always been afraid of the dark, but her mother always told her the dark could never hurt her. Never had her mother's words seemed so wrong. This darkness could kill her, it was killing so many others. then she remembered what else her mother had said. If she was ever in a dark place, she could close her eyes even though it was dark there too, she could picture herself in a place filled with light. Then everything wouldn't be so scary. Taking a shallow breath, she closes her eyes and tries to imagine herself anywhere else, not trapped in her own nightmare.

Maybe on a beach somewhere. Warm and safe, with the sounds of the waves and the sun beating down on them. There'd be a slight ocean breeze blowing along and seagulls would fly overhead in the crisp, clean blue sky. She'd take Sybil into the water and teach her to splash among the waves. Peter would come and splash her from behind and she'd get him back. Jack and Rose could be there too, happy and free from Cal. Jack drawing the horizon line and Rose reading a book on a blanket. Then Emma would take Sybil into the sand and build a sandcastle. Peter would bring out some lunch and they'd lay in the sun for a long time until their noses peeled and their toes were full of sand.

Then they'd watch as the sun went down along the horizon and Peter and Jack would lean over and kiss their sweethearts. Sybil would be sleeping in her arms and they'd watch the stars come up like they did the other night.

The night of the party...it felt like such a long time ago...and their wedding. Had it only been a few hours since the sun set and she and Peter had said their "I do's", promising to be together forever?

 _Who would've thought forever could be severed?_ She thought. _By mother nature..._

There are suddenly bubbles and Emma's heart goes into her throat. She wants to move, but her shoulder is in pain and her dress is frozen to the wood.

A head pops up and a man gasps for air.

It's so dark underneath the lifeboat that Emma can't see who it is. She realizes that the man has the same intentions as she does, to wait out of the water.

Emma assumes the man can sense her presence because he turns.

"Is there somebody here?" he asks in a frail, raspy voice.

"Y-Yes," Emma says in a soft voice.

"Is there a chance I can join you?"

"I can't do anything otherwise." Emma sighs.

The boat rocks again and the sound of water dripping comes as the man climbs up and grabs ahold of another seating area. Emma can barely see the man's silhouette as his dark shape joins her under the boat. She can see that most of the man's body is out of the water except for his feet which dangle limply on the surface. He's not as tall as Emma so he must make do with what is given.

His breath is laboured and harsh as he settles into some comfortable form.

There's a long silence, except for both of their breathing in the darkness.

Emma doesn't know what to make of this man, he seems to be fairly calm despite the chaos that must've been going on around him. She doesn't know who he is, or where on the ship he came from. He was probably not in the water as long as she was, but was thinking clearly when grabbed the underside of the lifeboat. She is no longer alone in the darkness and even though they couldn't see each other, there was the comfort to be had with this stranger.

"W-Who are you?" Emma asks.

"Harold Bride."


	21. Chapter 20: Polite Conversation

Chapter 20: Polite Conversation

 _This chapter is in memory of Harold Bride, one of the heroes and survivors of the Titanic. This is also in honour of those men who bravely clung to Collapsible Boat B and survived a horrible night in the sea. And to those who passed away on this boat and tried to hold on to the very end. They will always be remembered._

Emma and Harold cling to the underside of the tiny lifeboat. Around them, the muffled screams of those unfortunate souls freezing and dying in the water haunting them as they floated inches above the black sea. The boat occasionally rocked as

Tears fall from Emma's face. She prays that someway, somehow, Jack and Rose were safe.

"What a night eh?" Harold whispers.

Emma squints in the dark to make out the face of this man. He's young, can't be more than twenty years old at the most. His legs hang limply over the water, one bend at a weird angle. He breaths profusely as he tries to catch his breath and calm himself. Emma assumes that he wants to simply chat with her to distract both of them from the disaster they had both just witnessed.

"Yes," she sighs. "What a night."

"Got family waiting for you in New York then?" he asks.

"No..." Emma says. "I lost my mom a few months back and my father last month."

"I-I'm sorry," Harold says.

"I've only got my husband and my baby sister."

"Were they on the ship?" he asks.

"They were, but they managed to get away on a boat,"

"How come you didn't go with them?" Harold pauses. "Forgive me... I-I stepped out of line... " he mumbles.

"It's alright," Emma says. "In such a situation manners are the last thing I'm concerned about. I went to help a friend, who's loved one had been arrested and trapped down in the ship."

"Did you save him?"

"We did...but it seemed fruitless in the end. They-they are probably among those in the water now..."

Emma can feel more tears come to her eyes and she sniffles loudly.

"I-I'm sorry." she squeaks.

"That's quite alright," he says and Emma can faintly see him nod towards her. "But help is coming..."

Emma's heart skips a beat.

"It is?!" she gasps."When? Where? How do you know that?"

"I'm the junior wireless operator of the ship," Harold explains. Emma can hear a slight bit of pride in his voice over his title. "My partner, Jack Thayer and I were working until the water came into the room. We received several responses from ships, including her sister _Olympic_ , but the _Carpathia_ is on her way."

"How far away?!" Emma asks, hope filling her up with warmth and excitement.

"They were four hours away last we spoke to them."

Emma's heart sank, her stomach twisting up and she let more tears fall on her cheeks.

"Most of them will be dead by then," she whimpers. Her body begins to shake with sobs, rocking the boat slightly.

Harold sighs and remains silent. Reality had hit Emma and hit her hard. There was little chance that those who were still aboard as the ship went down will survive until the ship came. She knew as well as anyone that in such cold waters, people had a twenty-minute or less lifespan. She began to pray that the lifeboats were going to pick up as many survivors as possible and hopefully Jack and Rose were among them. They were strong and they had each other, they had to have survived.

"I can barely see you, but your dress is quite noticeable. What was the occasion?" Harold says, breaking the prolonged silence.

"I just got married on the bow of the ship last night," Emma explained. She sniffled again and thought of her wedding. It seemed like such a long time ago and yet, it had only been a few hours. She thought of all the caring and loving people who were kind enough to attend and help with the ceremony. All those people might now be dead. Jack's friends, that kindly old woman, the pastor...even the children...

She sighs once more and wipes the tears from her face with her good hand.

"Congratulations," Harold says with as much enthusiasm he can muster.

"Thank you," Emma says, smiling even though she knows Harold can't see it.

They are quiet again for quite some time. The boat continues to rock back and forth, swaying both of them and letting out more air. They remain in their stiffened positions until they see the water is almost upon them.

"Do you think we should see if there's room on top?" Harold asks. "The air won't last much longer and soon the water will soak us to the bone."

"Yes..." Emma says quietly.

Harold begins to lower himself into the water and Emma hears him gasp in pain.

"What?" Emma asks.

"Bloody ankle, I think it's broken and the cold is not helping much either."

Emma began to lower herself off the seat, making cracking noises as her dress had frozen to the seat. She felt the sharp pain come back to her shoulder and she moaned, biting her lip to keep herself from screaming and scaring Harold.

"Are you alright?" Harold asks.

"I was shot in the shoulder by someone. I guess in the chaos they didn't know they would hit someone."

"Will you be okay?"

"I think so."

Emma braces herself as her feet hit the water. It still felt like a thousand knives stabbing her as her body met the cold again.

"I'll go under first," Harold explains. "Follow me closely."

Emma nods and she hears Harold take a deep breath and submerge. Her heart is pounding as she treads water in the blackness that threatens to swallow her up and drag her down into oblivion. She can see her breath and she can feel her eyes tearing up again. She holds the edge of the boat so she knows where she's going.

 _Under and up!_ she thinks to herself. _Under and up_.

She takes a deep breath and goes under.

The cold threatens to cause her body to seize up and sink, but Emma pushes herself onwards. She blows out bubbles and pushes her head up. She looks around and can see the stars looming above. It looked so beautiful. She turns to see Harold struggling to climb on top of the boat.

"Make way! Make way!" a voice yells out.

"There's a woman down here!" Harold yells. "She and I need to get aboard. The woman is wounded"

"Someone pull them up!" the same voice yells. Emma can faintly see and hear the water lap at her face as the body of Harold Bride is pulled on top.

Emma reaches over and feels the slippery pattern of the boat's wood.

"Can I get help please?" Emma says. "I was shot in the shoulder."

Two pairs of hands come down and Emma grabs for them. With much effort, she manages to help the men, even a little bit to get out of the water.

The boat immediately rocks forward, the weight of Emma being pulled tips is dangerously forward. Emma immediately grasps for the wood, trying to get some traction. Her arm also explodes in pain as she's pulled up and out of the frigid water.

The cold nips at her nose and hair and Emma does her best to curl up into a ball to conserve her heat. At least, under the boat, she was protected a little bit. Here, she could die of exposure. She can hardly see anything, except the shapes of several other men, their dark figures contrasting against the starlit sky. She can hear their faint and exhausted breaths, doing their best to keep themselves alive. The boat continues to rock back and forth with the water splashing everyone on both sides.

"Let's level this boat out!" the officer in charge yells. "You Sir over here, go slowly as you can...careful...!"

Emma is happy to see yet another officer trying to keep calm in the face of danger. They attempt to put on a brave face at the moment of death and tragedy.

"You there in white, move towards your left more!"

Emma carefully moves herself to where the officer wants her to be and remains silent most of the time that they do this. There are several men on each side of her as they level the top of the boat out.

Everyone does as they are told and they shift their weight constantly to keep the boat steady. Eventually, the boat is even, cold water laps at everyone's feet, which Emma does her best to avoid, by curling into a ball.

"Does anyone know of a prayer we can say together?" a voice rings out from the boat. "Pray to our God."

Immediately, people begin calling out their religions and Emma mumbles hers to them. They are all from different walks of life and Emma swears she can hear Harold Bride's call out his religion too. So many different people of different classes, come together in a time of disaster, scared and alone in the middle of the ocean.

"I think that it is best that we say the Lord's prayer," the same voice who asks.

In almost unison, everyone begins to say a prayer they all knew from their days in grade school and masses.

 _"Our Father who art in heaven..."_

As they say this, Emma looks up at the sky, the stars shine just like they did in her dream, like diamonds and she can almost hear Peter saying that none of them were as lovely as her.

 _"Give us this day our daily bread..."_

She simply then prayed to God that Rose and Jack were safe, in a boat somewhere out there, safe and warm. She also prayed for Peter and Sybil, who were probably shivering in a boat out there as well, praying the same thing for her safety.

 _"But deliver us from evil..."_

After the prayer had been said, there was a long silence. Extremely long. The only thing heard was an occasional sniffle or even a sob from one of the men around her. The lapping of the water was soothing in a way as they floated along the great black sea. Emma kept herself curled into a ball and hid her face, crying once again. The silence was torture for her as well because she knew that this meant that most of those innocent people in the water were dead. She thought about her friends out there...they had to be okay... they were so perfect together and She and Rose went through so much trouble to rescue Jack. they were okay, they were survivors.

"Would you like some whiskey?" a man asks beside her. Emma can barely see a shiny, metal flask being held out her.

"Thank you," Emma says. She takes the flask and puts it to her lips. The strong smell of whiskey stings her nose and she takes a swig. She winces as the strong taste hits her dried mouth and throat. With much difficulty, she swallows it and she hands the flask back to the big man. She thought of all times she curled up with her father in his favourite chair as he read the evening paper, a glass of whiskey and ice in one hand and Emma under his other. He would read her the headlines and then simply cuddle with her in comforting silence until she fell asleep in his arms. Emma longed to feel her father's warm embrace again, sitting next to him by the fire. She had been so cold for so long, she wondered if she would ever be warm again. All feeling had gone from most of her body, even where she had been shot, was numb, with occasional sting

As the night wore on, there were the occasional splashes as something hit the water. Emma did her best to ignore them and put her hands over her ears, trying not to cry anymore. Those splashes were those who has succumbed to the cold and lost their grip.

Soon the daylight began to shine over the horizon. Emma stared at the sight, realizing that the night of hell and death, was over...at least partially. She couldn't bear to see such beauty after nature had taken so many lives.

The sea begins to pick up and the boat rocks dangerously again.

"On your feet everyone!" the officer in charge yells. "We must keep this thing afloat as long as possible. We're losing air!"

Emma holds the man who gave her the whiskey and slowly gets to her feet. She does her best not to slip, but the smooth, now she can see white wood of the lifeboat

"Everyone face the bow, where I am. Two rows please!"

Emma stands in the row on the starboard side, cold water again laps at her feet. She tries to curl her toes, but there is no feeling left.

"Careful, Careful!" The officer yells. "Shift to the left... now to the right...left"

The lone girl on the boat does as she is ordered. Eventually, all the survivors are working in unison to keep the boat's weight even to prevent anyone from being swamped. The water does begin to rise again as the tiny lifeboat loses its air. She clings to the shoulders of the man in front of her and squints as the sun begins to rise. The officer's voice becomes a mere drone to her as Emma shifts her weight as told as if she is a soldier marching off to battle.

The morning comes forward in a blaze of glory and the stars vanish from the sky.

"Boat Ahoy!" one of the men yells.

Emma can feel her heart racing, warming ever so slightly as she realizes she's going to be safe.

She eagerly wants to look around the men standing in front of her to see the ship, but she realizes her excitement could kill someone in the process.

The officer in charge blows his whistle and attempts to signal to the boat

"Come about!" the distant officer in the other boat calls.

Emma can feel some relief as another boat of the same pale colour comes up to them.

"One at a time please," Another stern voice calls out.

Emma's heart starts pounding as she impatiently waits her turn to be put in the boat.

She sees the friendly face of the officer who had been directing them all night reach out and help her into the boat.

She's attacked with a blanket by one of the other survivors and she's made to sit on one of the benches.

Relief floods

Wrapped in a blanket, Emma puts pressure on her shoulder and lays back. She looks up as the stars fade in the morning light, she can feel another tear goes down her face.

A loud voice eventually cries out. "There's the ship! I see a ship! God in heaven we're saved!"

Emma squints, trying to see the ship, the _Carpathia_ , the savior of the disaster, but she doesn't bother, she knows she's going to make it now.

"Row towards the ship!" the officer of the floating lifeboat orders.

She has survived her nightmare, scarred and frozen by it, but she's made it. All she had to do was rest.


	22. Chapter 21: Never Let Go

Chapter 21: Never Let Go...

The water was no eerily still as the star-crossed lovers lay adrift, one in the water and one on a door. The two clung to each other, doing their best to stay alive amongst the dead and the dying. The only sounds were the sounds of lapping water and a song…

"Come, Josephine in my flying machine…" she says, the cold making her once lively voice a barely audible eyes looked at the stars, the very same stars that she wanted Jack to take her to just earlier that night. It certainly didn't feel like last night, it felt like a million years ago. So much had happened since then. Everything they knew was now at the bottom of the ocean.

"And it's up she goes...up she goes..."

"Is there anyone alive out there!" A voice shouts into the graveyard of corpses. Rose's heart jumps into her throat. A light is scanning the array of floating frozen people. "Can anyone hear me!"

"Jack, there's a boat!" she says. She pulls herself up, the sound of her frozen hair tearing off of the wood.

She shook his hand again.

"Jack wake up there's a boat…!" She says again.

"Jack…?" she whispers. "Jack please!"

Her heart begins to break and tears flood her eyes. He can't be dead. He promised they would go to Santa Monica and do all those things. He was a survivor and the had only just begun their journey together. It couldn't end like this.

She whispers his name again. She reaches over and puts her hand near his neck. She pushed hard and could barely feel a pulse. She sighed in relief and could just hear his faint breathing. She knew she had to get them both safe, knowing Jack only had minutes to live, perhaps seconds.

The light from the boat begins to go past them, fading into the distance.

"Come back!" Rose tries to yell, but her voice is so soft and weak that they would never hear her. More tears stream down her face. "Please come back!"

Her heart began to sink again. She couldn't just give up like that, she had to try.

She looks around anxiously, she and Jack's chance of survival is slowly slipping away. Suddenly she sees a dead officer nearby with a whistle around her neck. She begins to move towards it, but it is not fast enough. She's dragging Jack along. For a single second, she considers letting Jack go, but she promised she wouldn't, not for any reason.

"I'll never let go." She promises and squeezes his hand and kisses it.

She musters all the strength within her and holding onto Jack's hand, Rose lowers herself into the water. She ignores how cold it is and swims as fast as her legs can carry her. She swims towards the dead officer and reaches out and grabbing his whistle from around his neck, she inhales as much air as she possibly can and blows. The sound it weak, but loud enough. She continues to blow, holding onto Jack, pulling his arm up over her to keep him afloat.

"There's someone out there!" the officer in the

"Come about!" another shouts.

Rose feels tears of relief. She continues to blow and hold onto Jack for both their lives depended on it.

The boat makes it way towards the sound, pushing through a crowd of corpses to get to the nearly frozen couple.

"Take him first," Rose says weakly, the whistle now out of her mouth. The officers pull him in. Rose feels as if a part of her is being torn away as she lets go of Jack's limp hand.

"Is he dead?" one of the officers asks, looking at the pale lifeless face of the blond man. A shaky hand goes against his neck.

"There's barely a pulse. Wrap him up quickly and say a prayer."

An officer pulls Rose out of the frigid water and removes her lifejacket, leaving Rose feeling vulnerable and unbearably cold.

"Put them together so they can share body heat." The lead officer shouts. Rose has a blanket thrown around her and she's laid down on the deck boat with Jack. He too is piled in blankets. Rose reaches over and pulls him to her. His body is so cold and heavy. Rose can feel tears coming back to her eyes. She pulls him close to her, much like he did to her on the stern as it went down. She puts her body as close as she can to him to give him her heat. She can still feel his breath, as faint as it is, it's there and that means there is hope.

The boat begins to move again and Rose looks up at the sky, the stars are now fading slightly in the morning light. The voices of the officers simply become drones and indecisive, almost lulling her. She can feel her strength fading again and her eyes become heavy. She felt slightly better and could relax a bit more, knowing that both she and Jack were safe as they could be for now. She squeezes Jack again to make sure he's there and then shuts her eyes.

All she had to do now was rest.


	23. Chapter 22: Little Hope

Chapter 22: Little Hope

"Row towards the ship!" the lead officer of the boat shouts.

Peter sighs. It's what they've been doing all night. His arms were sore from rowing and his leg is still killing him. He knows the blood has soaked through his bandage and is probably pooling on the deck of the lie boat. The cold may have sealed the wound a bit, but also frozen the blood to his leg.

He still can't believe that he was shot and that the entire ship went down in less than two hours. Every moment he thought of Emma, somewhere on that ship. He prayed that she made it to a lifeboat and was now also going to the rescue ship. He couldn't bear the thought of Emma being on the stern of the ship as it broke away and went down. He hoped that Emma wasn't among those who screamed as they froze to death in the water all around them. He couldn't picture it.

He rowed with the other men who were put in charge of the oars through the night. Several of them were firemen who had been working down in the boiler room when the water poured into the ship. How they escaped, Peter didn't know because anyone spoke at all on the boat. The shock of what had just happened was hardly sinking in, leaving everyone paralyzed and sad. Several women on the boat were sobbing for their husbands and children clung to their mothers, more afraid than anyone else. Peter had handed Sybil to a nearby woman who tended to her all night. Sybil had slept most of the night, the swaying of the boat seemed to put her under nicely. She did wake up once and began to cry, most likely because she was in the arms of a stranger. Peter took a break from his rowing to cradle and comfort her. He could tell she was cold, hungry, and missed her sister. After what they'd been through that night, he felt like crying too but kept calm for the sake of his wife's sister. Once she was in familiar arms, Sybil settled down enough to go back to sleep. Peter envied her, being able to let all your cares drift out of your mind as you escape to a safer place. He gave Sybil back to the woman and began to row.

They rowed for most of the night, in no particular direction, but it was meant to keep people warm. The officer was the only one who ever really spoke, ordering those to go port or starboard or stop. Several of the passengers wanted to go back and look for survivors, but they were ordered to remain quiet by the officer. The fear of being swamped by panicking victims was greater than the need to save more lives.

As the sun rose, the boat was surrounded by icebergs and on the odd occasion a corpse floating in the water. Peter wanted to avert his eyes but he had to see if it was Emma. He felt some relief when none of them were her. A ship's horn soon broke the morning air, many of the survivors rejoiced and cheered. However, Peter felt a little relief. The officer ordered them to row and Peter did as much as he could, feeling the energy and hope draining from him.

The last words that Emma has said to him echoed in his mind.

 _"I need you to go. Someone has to care for Sybil_ _…If you're safe, I'll be safe, please do this for me. I couldn't go on if something happened to you…I will find you again. I will be okay! ...Family vow…"_

He did his best not to cry, distracting himself from the pain of possibly losing his wife, whom he had only been married to for a few hours, by rowing, but there was still a heavy stone in his stomach. He felt to helpless. He should've held onto her more tightly, preventing her from leaving his side. She should have been in this boat, not him or maybe both of them, still together and still a family. Now she was most likely gone.

The boat waits for a while for their turn. When the time came, the options were to pull the children up in a cargo net, be pulled up in a swing or climb the ladder. Peter watches as several women are pulled up in the swing.

"I can't climb…" Peter says. "I was shot in the leg."

"There's a swing…" one of the officers says calmly. "It will pull you up."

A simple rope swing with a wooden seat was lowered down and Peter, with help, managed to get on it.

"Hold tight," the officer says.

The morning sun practically blinded Peter as he swung up out of the lifeboat. His stomach churning as he's lifted high above the ocean. He clung to the ropes with his dear life. The cold also nips at his nose and hands, which are already frozen from rowing. His swing reaches the rail and several men help pull him over.

Once aboard, he is offered a blanket and something hot to drink, but Peter can barely go two steps before collapsing due to his wound. The men surround him in concern and rush to his aid.

"What hurts son?"

"My leg…" Peter grimaces. "I was shot in the leg."

"Get him to the doctor's cabin immediately." One of the officers of the ship orders.

Two men grab either side of Peter and help him to the doctor's cabin. They knock before entering.

Once inside, Peter feels the rush of warmth, something he has not felt in a long time. A doctor in a white coat is cleaning his hands when the men come in.

"Better be gentle with this one doc," one of the men grunts. "He was shot."

"Which leg?" the doctor asks.

"Left," Peter moans.

"Bring him to the table here, gently please." The doctor orders.

The men do so and Peter can't help but feel a great amount of gratitude to the men, as his strength has left him.

"Thank you," Peter whispers as the men turn to leave.

The men nod in acknowledgment and leave the cabin.

A doctor comes in and goes to work on Peter. He cuts away at the boy's pant leg and begins prodding at the bandages. Peter moans as the shooting pains come back and his leg clenches up.

"Who shot you son?" the doctor asks.

"Some man, we got on his bad side," Peter says.

"May he be in hell for doing this to you," the doctor grimaces.

Peter felt some satisfaction with the doctor saying this. Hockley had shot at him, with the intention of killing him out of anger and some well-orchestrated plan to frame Jack for it. Hopefully, Hockley had not made it off the boat and was burning in hell for doing this to him.

"Looks like the hospital on the Titanic didn't do much for you," the doctor observes.

"The ship was already sinking when this happened," Peter explains. "There wasn't much that they could do."

The doctor slowly removes the blood-soaked bandages and Peter gasps in pain.

The doctor pauses and then goes to the medicine cabinet.

"I'm going to give you some morphine son," the doctor says as he reaches for a sterile needle. "It will numb the pain and allow me to inspect the wound."

"Okay," Peter murmurs, only half-conscious now. He never particularly liked needles, but at this point, he was too tired to care

The doctor fills the needle up and presses it into Peter's leg.

The man immediately feels some relief as the substance begins to enter is the body, alleviating much of the pain that had haunted him for the past few hours. He feels his eyes closing and his body relaxing little by little. He was suddenly filled with a new kind of warmth, something that allowed him to drift into a dreamless sleep.

…

Peter comes to several hours later. He is lying on a cot in the doctor's cabin. A thick blanket is wrapped around him as well as an IV injected in his right arm. He moves slightly and cringes, the morphine is wearing off and the pain is coming back. He can hardly sit up.

"Ah, I see you are awake," the doctor says coming into the cabin again. "I managed to get the bullet out and stitch up the wound. I also disinfected the wound and mopped up the rest of the blood. It amazes me that you managed to get through the night without losing too much blood, I think the cold air helped prevent too much blood leaving your body."

"Thank you," Peters says groggily.

"You are very welcome. Now the nurses will bring you something warm to drink to get yourself hydrated again and you can relax."

"What about Sybil?" Peter asks.

"Sybil?" the doctor says.

"My wife's sister she was in the lifeboat with me…" Guilt surges through Peter. The whole point of him being in the lifeboat was that he could care for Sybil, make sure she wasn't alone. He tries to move, get out of his bed. The pain comes back and his leg aches like crazy. He has to get the little girl. She may be the only piece of Emma he will ever have left. "I have to get to her…"

"You are not going anywhere!" the doctor says, rushing over to stop Peter from moving. "You won't be able to walk on that leg for several weeks and if you move now, you will run the risk of opening the wound again, causing infection and further bleeding. Sir, you cannot go anywhere,"

"But Sybil," Peter says, tears coming to his eyes. "I can't leave her alone. My wife…she may have gone down with the ship and I promised to take care of her…"

The doctor looks into the young man's eyes. He had seen a lot of tragedy in the past few hours, many of the patients were distraught over the loss of their loved ones. He remembers treating a young Madeline Astor, pregnant and now alone as her husband had gone down with the ship. He had given her tea and told her to try and sleep, due to the extreme stress was very dangerous for the child she was carrying, it was very easy for her to miscarry. He could do little to ease the pain of the grieving survivors, though he wished he could help them, unfortunately, there is no cure for sadness. However, here he could do something to help this young man, make his recovery a little better.

"How about this, I will get a nurse to send out the name and description of the child and the officers will search for her. If…when they find her, they will bring her to you. Is that okay?"

Peter nods and relaxes a bit. He gives the name and description of the child for the doctor to give to the searchers and he lays back.

Several hours later, Peter had been forced to drink several cups of tea to re-hydrate himself and bring his body heat back to normal. He refused any form of morphine until Sybil was found. He mostly spent the time asking if there was a young woman in the infirmary answering to the name of Emma, but he only got a no. He gave his name to someone making a list of survivors and asked for anyone named Emma Carson. Again, he got a no. He watched the other survivors come in and out of the cabin, getting treatment for whatever they needed. He did see one man with both his ankles broken go out, explaining that he must be at his post. Another man with dark hair and a thick mustache was carried into a separate room, pale, shivering and whispering in hysteria.

A nurse comes in with some hot soup for Peter as the sun goes down.

"I have some good news for you, sir," The nurse says.

"What is it?" the young man asks.

A woman, the same woman who was caring for Sybil in the boat, comes into the room carrying a bundle of blankets.

"Sybil!" Peter gasps, tears flooding his eyes in relief.

The woman brings the bright-eyed baby to Peter who takes her eagerly. Sybil looks up at Peter and smiles. She reaches up and touches Peter's face. Peter holds her hand against his face, embracing the warmth

"Thank you so much!" Peter says to the woman. "For keeping her safe."

"You are most welcome," the woman says with a warm smile. "She is quite the kicker. She did not like me at first, but when I fed her, she calmed down enough. She has slept most of the day. I did try looking for you until an officer informed me a child was missing and matched this young one's description."

Sybil coos and kicks against the blankets she's wrapped in.

"I wish I could repay you," Peter says.

"There is no need. To see a family reunited and see a little happiness after this tragedy is more than enough payment." The woman says. She reaches over and shakes Peter's hand then kisses Sybil before leaving the room, never to be seen again.

Peter eats his soup and then is brought some warm milk to feed Sybil. Sybil eventually falls asleep and the nurse brings him a small basket to place the young child inside. The nurse offers Peter some morphine, but he refuses. She then leaves the two alone and dousing the lamp in the cabin.

The euphoria of being reunited passes over Peter and he begins to sob. He holds Sybil in his arms and he clings her as if she'll suddenly disappear. He rocks her back and forth as tears slide down his face in the darkness. It is unlikely that Emma was coming back and all he had left was this tiny child. They had lost everything and the guilt of feeling some kind of happiness hurts him further. Emma should be here, happy to see her sister again and they should be holding onto each other, never to be separated again. Despite the tragedy, they should all be going to New York together and restarting their lives as a family. But, it was just him and Sybil, to raise as his own. He now fully understood why Emma wanted him to go in the lifeboat, so Sybil would not be an orphan and alone in the world. Emma wanted her sister to know what love felt like and have someone to watch out for her, even when she couldn't. Protect the child from the world full of harsh realities and unbearable sadness. How would he ever tell Sybil that her sister went down with the ship? He would never get her body to bury in a grave and Sybil would never have something to visit. He would never know what she was thinking in her last moments. At least, she went out like a hero, trying to save Jack and not alone, Rose was with her. He just prays that her end was quick and painless. He'd never know for sure and he'd never be able to tell her he loved her.

He cries and kisses Sybil several times as the child sleeps. Her face is flushed in the warmth of the room and her tiny mouth moves in a rhythm as if she is speaking. He can see Emma in the child's tiny features. Sure it would make him sad at first, but Sybil was the last piece of Emma he would have, so he would treasure her. He had promised to protect this child and that is what he will do. He will raise this little girl as his own and always remember Emma.

He settles into the bed, holding Sybil close to him. He never wanted to let her go. He eventually falls asleep with Sybil cradled against him.


	24. Chapter 23: Prisoner

Chapter 23: Prisoner

"Ma 'me I assure you she'll be okay…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's minor hypothermia and dehydration, She'll make a full recovery."

It's nothing, but darkness. The voices are strong and they make her headache. She's surrounded by something soft and the warmth around her is slightly comforting. Rose has little strength, her joints feel stiff and her mouth is dry.

Very slowly she tests out her limbs to see if they are working. She doesn't want to open her eyes just yet to face a screechy voice that is oh so familiar. Questions begin shooting through her mind, but the major one is, where is…

"Jack…" Rose says weakly.

Ruth enters the cabin when she hears the noise.

"Rose darling, you're awake!" Ruth says falling to her knees in front of the bed Rose has been lying in. Tears are in her eyes and she pulls Rose into a tight embrace, so tight that Rose grunts in pain as her limbs are quite sore and her breath is being squeezed out of her.

"I'm so glad you're okay, I was so worried, you have no idea how worried I was, but then Cal saw you being brought on board and he carried you here to me, saved you from being thrown into third class…"

Rose blocks out anything else her mother says, she's still trying to process everything and come fully into consciousness.

"I'll call the doctor over and have him look at you," Ruth says and leaves the cabin, locking it behind her.

Rose attempts to sit up, her body protesting for her to lay still. She lays in a bed in a small cabin with the heat turned up to the maximum. There are blankets all around her as well as cushions underneath her head. She pushes back a few of the thick blankets to bring herself into a sitting position. Across the room from her is a mirror. The figure staring back at her is thin and pale, with her face sunken in slightly and her flaming hair a matted mess. She no longer looks beautiful nor does she feel like it. Her face is showing the experience of the sinking, someone who has seen horror and sadness, someone who has lost everything. Her green eyes reflect the sorrow and despair of the night's events. She then thinks about where this is coming from…

 _Jack!_ She had to find him. They were both in the lifeboat together when she passed out, he must be okay… he must.

She starts to get out of bed, pushing back the covers and sitting up fully. She looks down, realizing that she is in a heavy unknown nightgown and barefooted. She shudders thinking who took the time to put her in these things. Her body aches the entire time she tries to put her feet on the floor.

Just then Ruth comes back with the doctor. He is dressed in a white coat and carries his bag with him. Little does either of them know that this same doctor had just treated a young boy with a bullet in his leg.

"Rose get back in bed!" Ruth orders.

"I need to find Jack!" she insists, the anger of her mother's word empowering her to rebel.

"You need to be in bed," Ruth says, back to her usual ways of ordering her daughter around to keep her in line.

"Please Mrs. Bukater, why don't you go get your daughter a cup of tea while I examine her," the doctor suggests, attempting to keep the peace.

"If only Trudy were still here, she could fetch it…"

"Mother…!" Rose growls.

"PLEASE, Mrs. Bukater, it would be in your daughter's best interests to do as I ask," the doctor insists. Rose can tell by his voice that he is becoming impatient with her mother as well.

"Alright, I will be back shortly," Ruth sighs, leaving and locking the door behind her.

Rose still tries to get up.

"Please Miss, you need to lay down so I can examine you,"

"I need to find Jack," Rose says again.

"You can find him as soon as you have fully recovered," the doctor says. "Please don't fight miss, you've been out for two days."

"Two days!" Rose says in shock.

"Yes, when you were brought aboard you were rolling in and out of consciousness and hardly able to walk, you had to be carried to this cabin here. I do recall that you did throw up at one point. Lay down for me please."

Rose decides there is no point in fighting right now, she still feels weak and she needs to take care of herself before she searches for Jack.

The doctor begins inspecting her legs and knees to see if anything is broken "Tell me if you feel any pain," He says. He talks as he works "Your mother insisted that I check on you every hour, but I told her I had other patients to tend to, she thinks that she is the most important person here…"

"She's like that," Rose sighs. "She's always been like that."

"Anyway, there were others in much worse shape than you were," the doctor says, pressing on her stomach in which Rose winces slightly. "I had to help a gentleman who had two broken ankles as well as severe frostbite that he acquired in the sinking and another who nearly bled to death"

Rose continues to lay back as the doctor checks her neck and rotating it. She can feel tears in her eyes thinking about all those who never made it to the boat.

"Besides, there wasn't much I could do until you regained consciousness. You were breathing so you were on my lower list of concerns."

"Of course," Rose says softly.

The doctor shines a light in both of her eyes to test her pupils.

"Do you feel sore anywhere?" the doctor asks.

"No sir," Rose says.

"You were the lucky few that was pulled from the water…"

"Doctor!" Rose says suddenly, catching him off guard. "Have you treated a young man by the name of Jack Dawson? He has blue eyes and blonde hair, he was wearing a white shirt and overalls"

The doctor ponders for a moment and shakes his head sadly. "I'm sorry, doesn't ring a bell, I've treated many patients over the past few days, it's hard to remember names, let alone faces."

"But wasn't there someone with me when I was brought aboard?!" Rose asks desperately. Her heart is slowly sinking with every denial.

"I can't say, my dear, there are a few Jane and John Does in the infirmary, but none of them that I can recall matching your description."

Rose begins to cry into her hands.

"I'm so sorry, child, I really am. I also cannot allow you to go wandering the decks just yet. You are still very weak and dehydrated, I must insist you stay in bed until your strength returns. That cup of tea from your mother as well as fluids should help you feel better very soon."

"But I can't leave him…" Rose sobs. "I promised."

"You can check the survivor's list," the doctor says, trying to give this girl at least some hope. "They've been making it for a few days now. Speaking of which, can I have your name so I can give it to them?"

Rose takes in a deep breath. "Dawson, Rose Dawson."

The doctor does not question it as he writes it down on a scrap of paper until there is a knocking at the door.

The doctor opens it. Ruth stands there with a steaming cup of tea.

"Thank you, sir," she says politely. She brings the steaming cup of tea to the bedside table and sits beside her daughter. "How is she?"

"She's perfectly fine Mrs. DeWitt. Nothing is broken and no head injuries. She needs to stay warm and hydrated and soon she'll be her old self again."

"Thank you so much, doctor," Ruth says

The doctor packs his things and turns to leave.

"Doctor," Rose says. "One more thing,"

"Yes?"

"What ship is this?"

"The Carpathia, ma 'me"

"Thank you," Rose says and the doctor exits the cabin. Ruth gets up and locks the door as the man leaves.

Ruth looks over at her daughter tears coming to her eyes.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Ruth says. "I'd thought I'd lost you."

 _You would have…_ Rose thought. All her hateful anger towards her mother comes back up to the surface. It seems she had done so much to escape the life she hated has trapped once again in the world that was trying to put her in gold chains. Everything that had been with Jack seems to have been in vain.

"Well…you didn't…" Rose says through gritted teeth.

"I've come to understand that everything you said on the boat was due to the stress and I felt so relieved that I would not have to explain our financial situation to the Hockleys..."

Rose's hands ball up into fists at this. It took ever ounce of strength within her not to scream or punch her mother. So many people have just lost everything they had, their lives, their loved ones, their possessions and all her mother could talk about were their own situation. To distract herself, Rose grabbed the cup of tea and began sipping it. The warmth of the liquid was comforting and would have been soothing if it wasn't for her mother's constant bantering.

She simply tunes out anything else her mother says and begins thinking about Jack. The doctor may not have treated him, but there's still a chance he's alive. His name could be on the survivor's list. He was always strong and he was a survivor. It seems that all that effort to stay together would've been in vain had he not survived.

Rose spent the rest of the day drinking tea under the covers of her bed and being tortured by her mother's conversations. Her mother was doing her best to play nursemaid to her daughter but was failing miserably, she eventually had a nurse come in and help keep Rose hydrated. Rose wonders what she had done to deserve this treatment. She watches as her mother constantly leaves, locking the door behind her. She really was trapped.

When the nurse leaves as it begins to get dark, there is a knock at the door. Ruth goes to answer it.

"Caledon do come in," Ruth says.

Rose's heart jumps into her throat and she immediately recoils away from where Cal is entering. She moves to the farthest corner of the bed. She begins searching for an escape route but is unable to find none. Despite the night he must have gone through, Cal still looks fairly presentable, his suit and tie still straightened and his hair slicked back. He looks ready to go to a business meeting than to recover from the disaster.

Ruth shuts the door again as Cal comes closer to Rose. She pushes herself as far away from this man as possible, pressing her back against the wall.

Cal says nothing

"I'll leave you two alone," Ruth says and she shuts the door behind her.

Cal sits on the edge of the bed, quite a distance from where Rose sits. He lets out a deep sigh. Rose refuses to look at him.

"You won't even look at me anymore."

Rose remains silent for a moment. "I hardly think you deserve it after what you did…" she says. "You unimaginable bastard."

Cal sighs. "I probably deserve that…"

"You do! And everything else you did, you're a monster,"

"I was…" Cal says calmly.

"ARE!" Rose snarls.

"Was" Cal insists. "Rose…I was heavily intoxicated that night and I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Using Sybil as bait and setting everything up hardly sounds like a man who was intoxicated!" Rose points out.

"I was also very angry and confused, I let my emotions get the best of me…"

"You tried to shoot at us…" Rose shouts.

"Please calm down Sweetpea."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she hollers.

"Please try to understand…"

"Understand that you're a monster!"

"I acted irrationally and foolishly, I was in a state of panic and I can hardly remember what happened after the robbery…"

"That's a lie!" Rose insists.

"Please, Sw…Rose try to understand. I regret my actions. I hate myself more and more each day. When I was in that life boat, I had a lot of time to think and I realized that I had indeed been a monster and acted out of anger. I saw the desperation of all those people, including the child I managed to save that night…"

Rose doesn't want to hear this, she turns away, tears still in her eyes. She does not want to hear any of this. His actions were inexcusable and she didn't want to be in the same room with him. She knows that everything he is saying is a lie, she had seen it before, something he did to allow someone to let their guard down before he attacked.

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

"I can tell you about his fate…"

"Jack's?" Rose says. Her stomach begins to turn, perhaps Cal is pulling this stunt to gain her forgiveness

"Yes, his…" Cal says.

Rose looks at his face. She can see what looks like forced sadness.

"I'm sorry Rose… he didn't make it."

"You're lying!" Rose yells. "I know you are!"

"I wish I was. I didn't see him when you were brought on board, you were my priority, I was very distracted by your condition that I forgot to check. Eventually, when you were safe, I knew you would want to know if he was alive so I checked."

"You're lying you bastard!" Rose snaps.

"Please Rose!" he insists. Rose can actually see some tears in his eyes, but Rose is not buying it. "I did think that he may have survived until…"

"What?!" Rose says.

"I saw someone being buried at sea a few days ago. I asked who it was, but they couldn't say. His name is also not on the list of survivors and I checked twice."

Rose's eyes fill with tears, she feels as if her heart has been ripped out of her body and stomped on. She doesn't want to believe him; he has to be lying. He is just doing this to manipulate her!

"But he was with me, he was alive when we were put in the lifeboat. I don't believe you."

Rose begins to shake her head and lean against the wall to prevent Cal from coming any closer. She denies it over and over in her head, but she thinks about what the doctor sais. Jack was in bad shape, he would've needed medical attention and the doctor said… She shakes her head and begins to cry again. If Cal is telling the truth… she curls up in the fetal position.

Cal leans over and kisses her head. She is surprised that he is offering her any sort of comfort. She pushes away from him violently.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she yells.

"I'm so sorry Sweetpea…"

"How can you be sorry? You wanted this to happen!" she barks with all her strength. "You wanted him dead, you wanted them all dead!"

Cal says nothing more and lets Rose cry it out. He does not attempt to make any further contact.

"Try to get some sleep Sweet… Rose"

Cal gets up to leave.

Her body is wracked with sobs, the pain of losing Jack is agonizing, leaving a very large hole in her heart. With the addition of Emma being lost as well and Sybil being without a sister makes her cry even harder. She also cries for those who were left in the sea, bodies floating in the cold ocean, lost and alone, their last minutes of terror and pain etched on their faces. Their screams for help that would not come. All Rose wanted right now was to die, to be with Emma and Jack and all the others. Fabrizio, Tommy, little Cora, Mr. Andrews, all those who lost now at the bottom of the ocean. She curls up into a ball and continues to sob.

Cal dims the light in the room and shuts the door and locks it. He allows her to cry in private.

Rose continues to cry, all through the night. Despite the jumble of anger, grief, hurt and sadness, she still notices something. Something that made her cry harder. In spite of the supposed sympathy, her mother and Cal were giving off, she knew they were trapping her. Closing her in order to get her where they needed her. Use her for their own selfish purposes.

Despite everything that has happened, Rose is sure of one thing. She is still a prisoner.


	25. Chapter 24: Welcome to New York

Chapter 24: Welcome to New York

"Here's your crutch son," the doctor says.

"Thank you, sir," Peter murmurs as he sits on the cot in a cabin with Sybil.

"I've arranged for you to have a meeting at the hospital in New York for the next day. I want to give you a prescription of anti-biotics for your leg. Now do you have anyone meeting you when the boat docks?"

"Yes sir," Peter nods.

"Good because you will not be able to do very much for awhile, especially care for this child."

"I'm aware," Peter nods. "I have my sister and her husband waiting for me in the harbour."

This was true. Peter had had a nurse send a wireless message to be transmitted to his sister that he had survived and was coming to New York with Sybil. He had left out the part that Emma had not survived because it was too much for him to think about right now. He also told his sister to notify his parents that he was okay.

His sister had been married several years to a handsome man named Carl, who worked in a steel factory. They had a young son, approximately three if he could remember correctly. They too had come to live in New York to get away from the country life in which his parents were still living. His parents lived in the countryside of Pennsylvania and Peter only ever saw them for Easter and Christmas, but he kept in touch. His parents were "over the moon" when they heard that he and Emma were engaged and were even willing to help pay for the wedding. They had even travelled out to Emma's parents' funeral. The last time Peter had spoken to them was the night before they left for England. They told him to be safe and write to them when they got back.

"Very good," the doctor says. "We will be docking in a few hours."

The doctor leaves to tend to other patients leaving Peter alone. Sybil in his lap, playing with a small toy, a wooden duck, that one of the nurses found for her. Peter kisses Sybil's forehead and rocks her gently. He envied Sybil being unable to comprehend what they had gone through, but even he noticed a change in her behaviour over the past few days. Sybil was less cheerful, she wasn't squealing as much as she used to, she ate less and was not sleeping as well, it was if she could sense the somber mood overhanging them. Peter could tell that Sybil knew that her sister was missing and it made her sad. Peter had vowed to keep Emma's memory alive for Sybil, for his sake and hers. Emma died a hero. He still held out hope that she was alive somehow, but those hopes were dashed when he saw that her name was not on the survivor's list.

To distract himself, Peter brings Sybil out onto the deck with great difficulty. He's holding Sybil in one arm and the crutch under the other. It is raining a bit as the ship is pulling into the harbour, going past the Statue of Liberty. Sybil was looking up at the statue and smiling, curious about how tall it was, but Peter's mind was elsewhere.

 _Emma should be here…_ he thought. _This was her world, her city, her life and now it's…_

He began to tear up again. He sniffles and kisses Sybil again as he gazes past the bow of the Carpathia. A massive crowd is gathering at the harbour, awaiting the ship's arrival. Peter was slightly surprised, but not much. The Titanic was such a massive ship, with all its famous passengers and the fact that it went down on its maiden voyage, would be big news anywhere. He can see the reporting boats sailing alongside the ship, attempting to catch the first glimpses of the survivors. Peter made a decision right there to try and keep himself and Sybil out of the limelight as much as possible. He wanted no fame from this disaster, he wanted to mourn for his wife in peace.

…

Getting off the boat was harder than anyone expected. Peter, limping off the gangplank with his wife's sister in one hand and a crutch in the other, he is hit by a wave of noise and flashing cameras.

"Sir, good sir can you give us a scoop? Is it true the ship was sabotaged?" one shouts.

"Did it run into several icebergs?" asks another.

"Where was the captain during all this?"

"Is it true some of the officers shot themselves?"

"Was there really another ship in the distance?"

"How many survived?"

"Is it true that people were shot like dogs on the deck to keep them from swamping the lifeboats?!"  
Peter can hardly believe these rumours and become instantly annoyed with them. He sees them all as predators, vultures swarming and hunting for a story, even if it means making one up. He does his best to keep his head down and ignore them. He has enough problems at it is. Sybil is staring wildly at the cameras and then turns into Peter's shoulder to prevent the lights from blinding her. Peter can tell she's on the brink of crying, the loud noises and bright lights are scaring her.

He makes it onto the dock, feeling the first plot of solid ground in several days. He shoves through as many people as possible, who are offering him money and other things for his story.

He makes to the first street next to the docks and begins searching for his sister, whom he told to meet him at the docks.

"Peter, Peter! Peter sweetheart!" a voice calls out to him. He turns to see his older sister rushing towards him. Tears are in her eyes as she pushes through the crowd to her brother.

His sister embraces him, squashing Sybil in between them.

"Oh Peter, I'm so glad you're okay!" she says.

"Thank you, Holly," Peter says, managing a small smile. It felt nice to be in the warm and comforting embrace of a family again.

Immediately, his sister goes off on a rant, with a myriad of questions, "What happened to your leg? Where's Emma? How is Sybil? I can't believe you're here! Mother and Father will be so happy…"

His sister's husband stands behind them nodding and trying to avoid being trampled by the throngs of people rushing forward to see who survived the disaster.

"Holly please, one thing at a time. Let's get these poor things out of the rain."

Peter appreciated his brother-in-law's calm and collected concern. His sister tended to babble uncontrollably when she was upset or scared.

Holly takes Sybil into her arms and Carl grabs Peter's free arm to guide him to their car. It's a crazy amount of people, shouting and crying. More reporters attempt to engage Peter, but Carl yells at them to leave them alone. He even has to swat a few out of their path. They were lucky he did not have to start shouting threats. Peter has never felt so grateful to his brother in law, whom when they had first met, Peter found slightly intimidating.

They reach their car parked in front of one of the many hotels in New York. Carl helps Peter into the back of the car and Holly holds onto Sybil.

Once in the car, Peter feels immediate relief from the chaos. These crowds were almost worse than the ones on _Titanic_. Carl begins weaving through the streets and rain on their way to his house in SoHo, New York.

The car ride is quiet for the most part except for Holly humming gently to Sybil to keep the little one calm. Peter can feel the worry of both individuals and they can feel the sadness of him.

They reach the house as it starts to get dark. Carl gets out and helps Peter out. The house is just like Peter remembers it, small, two storey house in a quiet neighbourhood with a small picket fence in the front and an ancient oak tree that leaned against the place slightly. It felt nice to be in familiar settings, but there was a huge damper on things without Emma there.

"Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Peeta!" his little rascal of a nephew, Thomas shouts as they come through the door.

The little boy's dark hair and eyes look up eagerly at his uncle. He is dressed head to toe in blue, with a shirt and overalls. His tiny blue shoes pound across the hardwood floors to greet his parents and uncle.

"Where's Aunt Emma?" he asks.

Thomas had gotten into the habit of seeing Emma as his aunt even though they were not married yet.

"Did you bring me anything? How big was the ship? Is that baby Sybil? I got a new bike for my birthday want to see it? Want to play Gin and Rummy? Mrs. Wilcox taught me how!" The inquisitive three-year-old bombards Peter with questions, clearly unaware of how bad their situation was.

Peter manages a small smile, he is indeed pleased to see his nephew and see the lively smiles of the young boy, seeing happiness in such a dark time. Thomas is about to jump up and hug Peter, but his mother holds him back.

"Not now Thomas," Holly says sternly. "Uncle Peter is hurt and needs to sit down."

"What happened?" Thomas asks.

"That's none of our business right now sweetheart and mommy or daddy don't know what happened either. Uncle Peter will tell you on his own time."

"Okay," Thomas says, being surprisingly understanding, even at such a young age.

"Where's Mrs. Wilcox?" Holly asks.

"She's in the kitchen making tea," Thomas says. "Can I have some tea mommy please?"

"Just a little and then I want you to go to bed. It's been a very long day and Uncle Peter is very tired. You can see your uncle more in the morning. Little Sybil will be sharing a room with you okay?"

"Okay Mommy," Thomas says obediently and he runs into the kitchen.

Carl helps Peter into a chair in their small kitchen as Mrs. Wilcox brings a tray of steaming hot tea to the table. Mrs. Wilcox is a plump, middle-aged lady with dark, greying hair and a stern expression, who lives next door and often acts like the family's nanny whenever Holly and Carl needed to go out. She was a hardened woman, but with a soft spot for young Thomas. She acted as grandmother to him while the real ones lived in Pennsylvania. She simply nods at Peter and then goes about cleaning the kitchen, not prying at all. Peter can see the day's newspaper out with the front page being a picture of the Titanic.

 _Titanic Sunk, Great Loss of Life_ , it reads. Peter tries to ignore it and looks up as his sister serves him some tea. Little Thomas sits next to his uncle, drinking from a small teacup. He pushes around a small wooden car around making car noises in between sips.

"Are you okay Uncle Peter?" Thomas asks.

Peter turns over and forces himself to smile at his nephew.

"I could be better Thomas." He murmurs.

"Thomas when you are done your tea, how about Mrs. Wilcox reads you a bedtime story, any book you want?" Holly suggests.

"Okay," Thomas says. He drinks up the rest of his tea and leaves the table to go upstairs. Mrs. Wilcox soon follows.

"Getting big isn't he?" Peter says softly.

Carl smiles before taking a sip of tea.

The room is quiet for awhile, the only sounds that can be heard are Mrs. Wilcox's soft voice reading to Thomas. Neither of Peter's relatives wants to speak to him, not until he's ready. Holly distracts herself by cleaning the kitchen, getting a bottle out and feeding Sybil, who soon falls asleep.

"Carl," Holly says. "Can you please go get Thomas' cradle from the basement and put it in his room?"

"Yes honey," Carl gets up and does so.

Holly then gets up. "I'm going to find some of Thomas' old nightclothes for Sybil."

"Alright," Peter says gently.

Holly leaves with Sybil in tow, allow in some time to reflect. He feels tears come to his eyes and he puts his teacup down because he's shaking so hard. He puts his hands on his face and sobs. He cries for Emma, his beloved wife, for the future they would never have, for the children they would never raise and for the house they would never buy. Everything that he and Emma had planned to do when they got married like running the business together and raising Sybil. Plans that seemed like a distant memory and very much impossible now, everything had gone down with that ship and there was nothing he could do about it. He'd lost the love of his life and nothing seems to make it better for him. The future looks bleak and he feels hopeless.

Holly comes back in and sees her brother crying. She rushes over to him and holds him. She holds like she used to do when he was little. Peter leans into his sister, not at all embarrassed to be crying in front of her. They had been close when they were young and that did not change now. He wants her warm embrace, though it did little to numb the pain, he is glad he had someone there for him. He feels a little less alone now, even though Emma is gone.

Holly holds her brother tightly, so glad that he had survived. She cannot imagine what her brother was put through on that boat and what kind of terror he must've felt watching the massive ship go down, most likely with his fiancée on it. She couldn't imagine herself in his position, it frightened her too much. She loved Carl and she did not want to think about a life without him. And yet, she wanted to know what had happened out on the Atlantic, the story that was shaking the world to its core. She was horrified when she woke up to find the paper on her stoop saying, _Titanic Sunk_. She spent days and sleepless nights worrying about her brother until the message came that her brother was alright. She had not told her parents about it, for fear that it may kill them, but she felt immense relief to call her parents to say not to worry. There was the concern that Peter had not mentioned Emma, she immediately assumed the worst. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw her brother without his fiancée. Her heart broke for him and she felt like weeping for Emma, a girl she had grown fond of through several of their meetings and enjoyed sharing stories about Peter's childhood with her. Emma was perfect for Peter and Holly were hoping for the best for them, clearly, now everything had changed.

Eventually, Peter composes himself enough to break free of his sister's embrace. He wipes his tears and re-adjusts his leg.

Holly pours him some more tea and then more for herself. Carl comes in cautiously, clearly, he had been waiting in the hall to allow Peter and Holly the privacy.

"More tea please Holly," he murmurs and she pours him some.

They sit in silence for a long while. All of them stare at their teacups, wanting to avoid the elephant in the room. The door shuts as Mrs. Wilcox leaves and a lone dog in one of the backyards of the neighbourhood barks into the night. The kitchen becomes dark and Holly lights some candles. The big clock on the mantle ticks the hours by and the tea gets cold in front of them until Peter speaks up.

"I'm sure you're wondering what happened…" he says gently.

"Peter you don't have to share it now…" Holly says.

"The thing is…I want to," Peter says. "I think it might help me a little bit… and I know Mother and Father will want to know eventually. I know if Emma…"

He wipes a few tears, "If Emma were here, she'd want you to know the truth."

"There's no rush son…" Carl says.

Peter sighs and takes a deep breath.

"I guess the best place to start it at the beginning…"


	26. Chapter 25: Spark

Chapter 25: Spark

Rose rolls over in her bed. Her silk pillow case wet with her tears. She shoves off the covers and sits up. She begins pacing the hardwood floors as she had done many nights previous.

It has been two weeks since the sinking and the loss of her beloved Jack. She is back where she started, in Philadelphia, still engaged to Cal and trapped. Her mother and Cal made sure of this.

Once the ship had docked in New York, Cal and her mother made sure that Rose stayed within their sights at all times. All of them were bombarded by cameras and reporters, asking for a story. The one good thing Cal did that day was shoved them aside, allowing them to pass through to the Waldorf-Astoria hotel, which was housing many Titanic passengers as they recovered from the disaster and thought about their next step. Rose was herded into a hotel room with her mother and was kept there for two days while Cal arranged for a train back to Philadelphia. Rose never argued or attempted to leave at any point, she was too depressed and too tired to fight. Jack was gone and he wasn't coming back. He would not be there to encourage her to follow her passions and start a new life for herself…with him in it.

Once back in their home, Ruth removed everything from Rose's room that gave her solace and encouraged her to think independently. Her music, her paintings, her books, anything that made Rose want to be free. She was also always supervised, whether by her mother, a maid, Cal or his new manservant. Her windows were locked and the doors were always closed.

Rose, however, didn't fight it and it wasn't like she was going any place anyways. She stayed in her room most of the time anyways with only a new maid bringing her food to her bedroom door three times a day. She lay in bed most of the day, hardly eating and mostly crying. Fortunately, her door locked from the inside instead so she could keep her mother and anyone else out. Rose was alone and she felt so depressed. To make matters worse, Rose could hear Cal and her mother talking about the wedding. They would postpone it for Rose's sake it seemed, but not for very long. Rose knew deep down she was stalling for as long as possible. She knew she could never marry Cal; after what he had done on the ship, it was unforgivable, but Rose was trapped, a prisoner in her own home. Rose had never felt so helpless in her life.

This particular morning Rose had spent the night crying and was now sitting in her room. She found comfort in sitting in her rocking chair and simply going back in forth for hours it seemed. The rhythm was almost like a ship going up and down on the sea, but Rose did her best to forget about that. She had nothing to read or to do with her hands so she simply rocked until the sun went down and it was dark again.

This morning, however, Rose was feeling different. After ignoring her mother's insistence that she come down for breakfast and the maid's knock to indicate food was here for her, Rose stands up from her rocking chair. She goes over to her mirror. Rose looks at herself in the mirror. She is pale and thin, her hair had lost its shine and her eyes were dull and dreary, bloodshot from crying and full of misery. There were dark circles under her eyes and her posture was dragging and hunched over. That spark Jack had talked about had long since been extinguished, leaving her a shell of her former self.

She goes over to her dresser drawer and pulls open the top one, filled with her gloves, scarves, and other accessories. The ivory white gloves suddenly remind her of what Emma had told her the night she and Peter got married. How they were concealing who she was and having one on one hand and none on the other is how she felt with her identity. The gloves were superficial and were not who she was. She was…is the girl Jack wanted her to be. She really should be making every moment count and not wasting away in sadness. Jack would not have wanted her to do so.

She dug through her closet and found some art supplies, some things that her mother had missed when cleaning out her room. She opens her windows to let the sunlight in. She changes into something that could get dirty and opens the paint sets. She sets down some paper on the floor and begins to paint.

Her brush becomes part of her hand as she paints what she was feeling. Images of waves by the seashore, the sunset like the one on the bow where Jack and she shared her first kiss. The fiery red she splashed on the paper, reflecting the anger she felt towards her life and the people in it. The flowers in her family's garden just outside her room spring to live with all the brightest of colours and the movement of dancing bodies in a hall inspired by the party she attended on the ship.

When she is done, she lets the paintings dry in the sun. They were beautiful works of art if she does say so herself. The lines and colours seem to leap off the pages and come to live in front of her, much like Jack's artwork did. She felt closer to Jack then, sharing in his passion, but with her own unique spin on it.

She looks at herself in the mirror again. Her eyes seem brighter and there is a slight smile on her face. Her posture has improved and her hair seems to be lighter. This is the Rose Jack wanted her to be, a woman who was free and passionate. Someone who was independent, who smiled and laughed just because it was fun. Someone who followed her dreams and made her own choices. Someone who was flying.

She hears footsteps coming down the hall and her mother's voice, gripping to one of the new maids for doing something wrong. That dreading feeling came back. Rose was free in spirit, but hardly in other ways. She was only seeing the open door of her gilded cage but had not spread her wings to break free.

She thought about running away, the only problem was, everyone was watching her and had a tight grip on her. She also had nowhere to go and little money of her own. She had to support herself and these paintings were not going to be enough.

A plan is soon formulating in her mind. She would act the way her mother wanted, at least for a little while, enough to gain her mother's trust back. It would be painful, Rose knew that and incredibly boring, but to gain back that freedom would be worth it. She looks over at her jewelry box and begins searching through it. Many of these diamonds and jewels could be worth a lot and allow her to save some money for herself. The paintings Cal had bought for her, not the ones that had gone down with the ship, but the others that her mother had taken from her, she could sell those to museums so that everyone could enjoy them. It would also indicate to her mother that she was moving on and becoming the girl her mother desired her to be. And all the clothes and shoes she has, she could sell them and give anything else to charity, to those who have very little. She would only pack what she wanted to keep and what was practical. The cover would be to anyone who asked was that she was packing for her honeymoon with Cal. She knew she would have to spend a few more months with the monster that was her fiancé, but she would be gone by the time the wedding rolled around. That would also be humiliating for Cal, his bride leaving him at the alter, give him a little payback for what he had done.

The plan seemed so perfect that Rose wanted to cheer. She felt a lot better now. She may still be in the place she hated, but she had a plan, a plan to start her life over again, this time with Jack's influence. She would do all the things they planned to do in Santa Monica in honour of him and maybe even become an actress. She was ready to be free, she had been ready her whole life to do this.

Jack may not be with her physically, but she was there with her in spirit and now he would influence all of her decisions. She was not Rose DeWitt Bukater, but Rose Dawson. A free woman.

The spark was back and this time, it had ignited an inferno.


	27. Chapter 26: Awake

Chapter 26: Awake

The world is quiet here. Everything is warm, everything is still.

Emma rolls over and her eyes open. She is greeted by the warm sunlight

"She's awake! By god she's awake!" someone hollers, practically giving Emma a heart attack.

Emma sits up and lets her eyes adjust to her surroundings. The room is pale, white. She's laying in a strange bed, dressed in a white gown. She turns her head and her arm explodes in pain. She gasps as everything comes back to her. She looks down to see her arm in a sling and her other arm injected with an IV tube.

A doctor comes in.

"Goodness, you are awake," he says. "I thought the nurse was making things up."

"Yes I am, but where am I?" Emma asks.

"New York City General Hospital."

"New York City?!" Emma gasps.

"Yes, you were one of the survivors of the _Titanic_ disaster."

"How? Where?"

"The _Carpathia_ brought all the survivors to New York…"

"Survivors, Where's Peter and Sybil?"

"Who?" the doctor says in confusion.

"My husband and little sister, they were survivors! Are they here too?"

"I'm afraid I don't know who they are. Can you settle down please, I must check to make sure you are not injured anywhere else."

The doctor begins to check Emma over. Emma sits anxiously, trying to process everything going on around her.

"You are one lucky girl," the doctor says. "The doctor on the ship said you were not likely to survive, but you did."

"What do you mean?"

"You were allegedly bleeding and hardly conscious when you were brought aboard the ship. You were suffering from hypothermia and blood loss. The doctor on the ship could not do anything to remove the bullet, but you were still breathing, so they wrapped the wound up and kept you hydrated and warm until the ship pulled into port. They then handed you over to me. I finally got a good look at you. The bullet wound you received was lodged in your shoulder, preventing any further bleeding and the cold froze your dress, creating a sort of clot to protect it."

"Is it still there?" Emma asks, looking at her arm in the sling.

"No, my surgeons were able to remove it and we've been treating it to prevent any infection. I also say you were lucky because the bullet missed any of your major arteries, it did, however, sever a nerve in your arm."

Emma gasps, showing the doctor her worried face.

"It is still useable; it is just some of the feelings will be gone in your arm. We're hoping the nerve will heal a little bit. That is why you are in a sling, giving your shoulder a chance to heal properly"

The doctor takes off her sling and pulls her gown down so she can see the scar. There is stitching where the surgeons made the incision remove the bullet and the rest is wrapped in gauze. The wound seems to be healing well, too well for just coming off the ship.

"How long have I been out?"

"Approximately three weeks."

"THREE WEEKS?!" Emma says in shock. "Has anyone come looking for me? What's been happening all this time?!"

"Calm down child, it is not that much time. You are one of the lucky few who regained consciousness."

"Do you know why no one has come looking for me?" Emma asks.

"Well, you had no identity on you when you were brought in so we were calling you Titanic Jane Doe number 3."

"3, there are others like me?"

"Only a few, some John Does too, all of whom have no identity, but are still alive."

"Why did you keep us alive?" Emma mumbles.

"Why child!" the doctor says in horror. "Every human life is worth it. We were not going to give up on you or anyone else, that is what doctors are sworn to do."

"I'm sorry," Emma says. "I didn't mean to upset you, I'm just confused."

"As you would be," the doctor says. "Fortunately, you being unconscious has allowed your arm to begin healing and your body to recover from hypothermia."

"That's a silver lining I guess." Emma mutters.

"I'll have the nurses bring you something to eat, I'm sure you are starving."

Emma has to admit to herself that she does feel quite empty, her stomach especially. She still can't believe that she has been out that long. Why hadn't Peter come looking for her? What about Rose and Jack, were they one of the John and Jane Does? Had the survived at all?

Emma looks beside her and she sees her belongings laying next to her. Her mother's wedding dress hangs nearby, the right shoulder is soaked in blood. she sees her mother's heirloom comb on her bedside table. She reaches over with her good arm, dragging the IV with it, and holds it in her hand. It is slightly bent from her using it to pick the lock and one of the jewels is missing, but it is still the same from when she left it. It looks like it has been polished and well kept. The family vow on the comb, still visible. She sees the officer's coat hanging on a hook next to the wedding dress. She begins to tear up, the selfless act of one officer on that ship saved her life, well it was a few contributing factors, by the officer gave her his jacket so she would not freeze to death in the water. She wonders if the officer made it, which was unlikely. She wiped her eyes as the doctor comes back with some papers and a nurse comes in with a tray of warm food. Emma's stomach growls and she puts the heirloom down.

"Thank you," Emma says. The nurse smiles and leaves the doctor with her.

Emma begins to test out her right arm. It hurts to move it, but she's always been right-handed. She's used them for everything.

"Please don't do that right now," the doctor says. "Your arm is still healing."

"Okay," Emma nods and uses her left hand to use the spoon to scoop up her warm soup.

"Pace yourself, child," the doctor warns. "Your stomach will have to get used to digesting again since you've only had the IV to feed you."

Emma nods. She takes a small sip of soup. The warmth of the food fills her right up and her body seems to come right back to live. She feels a bit of her strength come back and her stomach seems to thank her for feeding it again.

The doctor does some more tests on her while she eats, mostly testing her arm and injecting her with a clear solution that is supposed to keep her wound from being infected.

"Once your body is well nourished and hydrated you will heal even faster," the doctor reassures her.

"How long do you think I need to be in the hospital doctor?" Emma asks.

"We'd like to hold you for another week or so, make sure there are no further complications and then you will be free to go. Do you have someone who can help you for the next little while as your arm heals?"

"I'm working on that," Emma says. "Do you have a telephone I could use in the future?"

"Yes, but for now try and rest a little bit."

"Alright," Emma says.

"Before I leave, can you tell me your name so we don't call you Jane Doe anymore."

"I'm Emma Carson-Whitman."

…

The following day, Emma tries reaching her home. She's upset when no one answers.

"Where's Peter?" Emma asks herself. "I thought he'd be home by now…"

She then calls her father's office.

"Hello?" a voice answers.

"Mr. Jamieson?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Emma Carson,"

"Emma Carson?!" Mr. Jamieson gasps.

"Yes, it's me."

"We thought you went down with the Titanic."

"Well, I'm alive and I'm in New York, I'm in a hospital recovering from some of the wounds I received."

"I can't believe this, you're alive! The company will be saved and everything will not be sold!" Mr. Jamieson hollers. He then yells into the office, "Hey everyone, Ms. Carson is alive, she survived!" There are sounds of cheering on the other end.

 _Does everyone think I'm dead?_ Emma thinks. She nearly drops the phone _. That's why Peter hasn't been looking for me, he thinks I'm dead!_

"Ms. Carson you have no idea how happy everyone is…"

"I can hear, Mr. Jamieson, tell me has Peter Whitman been into the office yet?"

"No ma 'me, we haven't heard a thing from him or anyone involved with your sister."

"Well, they are alive, they were lucky enough to escape in a lifeboat. So nothing at all, not even a phone call. Have you tried reaching him?"

"We have Ms. Carson, but we do not know where he could be in this large city and we've heard nothing at all from, but we are looking forward to you coming back…"

"That's the thing Mr. Jamieson, I'm going to need someone to come and get me, you see my arm was injured in the sinking and I am unable to drive or care for myself very well until it heals."

"Ah, I see," Mr. Jamieson says. "When will you be discharged?"

"In about a week," Emma says.

"That's good, why don't you give me the address and I will bring over some of the paperwork to prevent the selling of your father's… excuse me, your company,"

"Alright…" Emma sighs. She tells him where and then hangs up the phone.

She looks down at her hand, where her engagement ring has managed to stay all this time. She starts to wonder where Peter might've gone and where would he have taken her sister.

…

The next week is filled with paperwork that Mr. Jamieson brings by the truckload for Emma to read and sign. She is annoyed by this, but it beats having to lie in bed all day. When Mr. Jamieson came to greet her, he gave her a hug, so happy to see the child alive.

Mr. Jamieson was an old family friend who Emma had known since she was little. He was a managing partner in her father's business for many years. He had taken over many of the company's affairs when she was mourning her father's death and making sure it was running smoothly. He said he would help Emma as much as possible when it was discovered that Emma would be running the company. He was confident, nice and did not seem to be at all concerned that he would be working with a woman, unlike several other employees who hated the idea of a woman running the company. Emma felt their resentment, she knew little about running a business and had yet to educate herself in business affairs.

Mr. Jamieson kept going on and on about when the news of the sinking happened and Emma was not reported on the list of survivors, he was worried he would have to sell the company. He did not have enough money to buy out her father's share and no one wanted to go against her father's wishes. They had become worried that the bank may seize the company since both sisters' fates were in doubt and Mr. Jamieson said that Emma's timing could not be more perfect, she could now save everything her father had worked so hard to build.

Emma signs paper after paper to prevent the bank from buying out and asks every day if Peter had been into the office. She still got no. She felt angry that Peter had not even tried to contact the office to say that he was okay. The couple had agreed a long time ago that they would run the company together, but now Peter had disappeared.

The day she's released from the hospital, Mr. Jamieson is there to drive her home, the home she was supposed to be sharing with Peter and Sybil. The doctor told she was set to go for the most part. She would have to come and visit so he could check on her healing and she only had to wear her sling at all times for now. She'd also received a prescription to take to prevent any infection. Emma thanks the doctor with all her heart and the doctor calls her the miracle patient before allowing her to go free. Emma takes the officer's jacket and the heirloom home, the only things she has to be reminded of the disaster.

As Mr. Jamieson drives down the road, Emma can feel her stomach become uneasy, now it was time to back into the stressful work life, to her it felt almost worse than the bullet wound she had. It was time to go back to reality.

However, Emma was not the only patient that would be considered a miracle in that hospital because two days after she had left, another survivor woke up.


	28. Chapter 27: Fighter

Chapter 27: Fighter

"Rose?" is the first word out of his mouth, another survivor.

His blue eyes open to bright sunlight and the white surroundings of the hospital. Jack attempts to sit up, but his body protests all the way. He's dressed in a white hospital robe, the clothes he was dressed in the night of the sinking are folded next to him, as well as the remains of the handcuffs Rose freed him from. In his arm is a needle and tube connected to a packet of liquid next to his bed, feeding fluid into his body. He feels his body shake slightly and most of his strength is gone. The last thing he remembers was that he and Rose were floating in the cold Atlantic water and he made her promise that she would never let go. He remembers how cold he felt and hopeless the situation was. Everything seemed to go black as he heard Rose's voice call for him. He wanted to live, he really did, but his body was giving up and the cold was unbearable. Yet, he survived.

A young nurse, approximately a few years older than him, comes into the room.

"You're awake?!" the woman says in shock.

"I guess I am…" Jack shrugs.

"I will go get the doctor…Two in the past two weeks, that has to be a record!" she says to herself before leaving.

Jack is confused by her words. Two in two weeks? Were there others like him who had been pulled from the water? Where was Rose? Was she one of the others in the hospital? He begins to look around for any signs of those lovely red curls, but he's in a room by himself. She had to have survived, she promised that she would try and stay alive, for him…he had told her that she would grow old and die in a warm bed. He made her promise that she would never let go.

The doctor comes in.

"Two in two weeks, that is some miracle!" he says, a huge grin on his face.

"Where am I?" Jack asks.

"New York City General Hospital," the doctor answers. "You were one of the lucky few to be pulled from the water…"

The doctor immediately sets to work, he orders the nurse to fetch him something warm to eat and then begins his work on Jack.

"How long have I been asleep?" Jack asks.

"About a month…"

"A MONTH?" Jack says in confusion.

"Yes, to be honest, no one was expecting you to survive. You, son, were half-frozen when you were brought aboard and yet you were still breathing. You're a fighter, I must say."

Jack is overwhelmed by the fact that he's been unconscious for over a month and yet he didn't die. He was surprised that the doctor didn't give up on him.

The doctor checks all of Jack's vital signs, heartbeat, and blood pressure.

"There wasn't much that the doctor on the ship could do for you, except try to keep you warm. When you were given to me, I performed several blood transfusions to make sure your circulation wouldn't fail anymore and get rid of the cold blood in your body. Once your body heat returned to relatively normal, we kept you under surveillance, we were unsure for awhile if you would ever wake up…"

Jack is stunned beyond belief.

"Your limbs all seem to be in working order, you were lucky we did not have to amputate any, the blood transfusions work to prevent any vital body parts from failing. You are yet another miracle patient."

The nurse comes in with a hot meal that she lays in front of him. She winks at him before leaving. Her attraction to him is clear, even while recovering, Jack is still considered very handsome to the female nurses. Jack uses his pale hands to reach for his cutlery.

"Please eat slowly," the doctor advises him. "You've been out for a month, so your body will have re-adjust to eating again."

Jack obeys and takes a small sip of soup.

"You and the nurse said something about two in two weeks, were there others like me?"

"Yes, there were," the doctor nods. "You are just one of the several John Does brought to our infirmary, what we meant by two is, you are the second patient in the past two weeks to regain consciousness after being… comatose you might say. There was a young lady who woke up two weeks before you."

That could be Rose! Jack thinks.

"What did she look like?" Jack asks eagerly. "The girl who woke up."

"She had brown hair and blue eyes, she was recovering from a gunshot wound."

Jack's heart sinks. That did not sound like Rose at all and yet it sounds familiar…

"What about the others?" Jack presses. "You said there were others…"

"Are you looking for someone sir?" the doctor questions.

"Yes, a young woman named Rose, she has green eyes and red, curly hair, she and I were together when we were saved…I-I think"

"I'm sorry, sir, there's nobody in that hospital who looks like that and I have not treated anyone named Rose that I know of…"

Jack sighs deeply. He can feel his hope of seeing Rose slowly slip away.

"There is still a chance she survived sir," the doctor offers helpfully. "You and the others were just a handful of individuals from the disaster. The only reason you had John or Jane Doe as your title was because we could not identify you."

"My name is Jack Dawson,"

"Jack, huh? I'll put your name on the record of survivors." The doctor gets up to leave.

"How long will I have to stay here Doctor?" Jack asks.

"About a week or so, your body still has some recovering to do and it needs to regain its strength. Are you meeting anyone on the outside sir?'

Jack sighs, "No sir, not that I know of…"

Fabrizio was dead, so was Tommy and Emma too. Rose was missing. He had no one looking out for him. He begins to wonder why Rose isn't searching for him. Does she think he's dead too? He knew he had to try and find her, he needed to look at the survivor's list, he had to know if she was okay. He had only known her for three days and yet she had stolen his heart. He loved her, that was for certain and he knew that she loved him too, so much so that she risked her life to free him and be with him as the ship was going down.

 _How can you fall in love someone after only three days?_ He wonders.

"Well, I'm sure you will be okay…" the doctor smiles.

Jack shrugs. "I've been on my own before."

There is a pause.

"May I ask you something sir?" the doctor.

"Sure…"

"The uh… the broken handcuffs…"

Jack understands immediately why he's uncomfortable, he thinks he might be treating a convicted criminal.

"Yes, I was framed for something I did not do and arrested. I was freed by the girl I love…"

"I see…" the doctor clears his throat. "Do you think they will pursue you any further?"

"No sir, I don't think so. Almost everyone involved went down with the ship, but I assure you, sir, I've never done anything illegal in my life."

Which was only half true, he had gambled on getting onto Titanic and he stole a jacket, but that was all.

"That's good to hear…"

"Sir…?" Jack asks.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could get some pencils and paper to pass the time over the next week."

"Certainly, I will send a nurse out to get some," the doctor says. "It will also be good at making sure everything is working properly and re-strengthen you muscles."

Jack smiles as earnestly as he can and then the doctor leaves.

Jack finishes his meal and leans back. A nurse comes to take it away, smiling the entire time. She is pretty, Jack has to admit, but he only has eyes for Rose.

…

Jack spends the next week sketching and waiting. He does his best to sketch Rose since his only image of her is now at the bottom of the Atlantic. Her eyes, her hair, her smile… He misses her. He tries to sketch other things, but his mind comes back to Rose. He longs for his sketchbook, which of course went down with the ship.

As his release day approaches, Jack tries to think up of a plan of what to do. He knows he needs to get a job of some kind to make money for himself, but he also wants to find Rose again too, do those things they promised to do together in Santa Monica, get to know each other and maybe start a new life together, to allow Rose to break free of her world and ignite the spark he saw in her.

When he leaves the hospital, Jack can't help but feel nervous and scared, just like when he left Wisconsin at fifteen, he didn't have any sense of direction or an idea what he would do, he just wanted to escape the tragedy he left behind. He was doing it again, but this time, he hoped to see someone, someone he loved and cared about. This part he was ready for and he was sure of it. Ready…

For them to start again.


	29. Chapter 28: Get Back Up

Chapter 28: Get Back Up

"Mommy, what's wrong with Uncle Peeta?" Thomas asks as his mother peels potatoes for dinner as her son playing with some of his toy soldiers at the kitchen table. Sybil sits on the floor, banging pots with a wooden spoon.

It had been approximately a month since the sinking and things were no better for her brother or the tiny child at her feet. Peter and Sybil had basically moved in with them, which was fine if her brother's emotions didn't cast a gloomy shadow over them all. Even her son, Thomas had noticed, trying to play with his favourite uncle like they used to, but only getting a "not today" or a "not right now" as an answer. She could tell her son was becoming worried and even a bit depressed himself, something she didn't want for him or her brother.

Holly swallows hard. She peels a few more potatoes before she answers. She was hoping she wouldn't have to talk to her son about the concept of death until he was much older, but then her brother lost his wife and now he has to raise her sister by himself.

"He's very sad Thomas," Holly says.

"But why?"

"Well…he got hurt on the ship and then Aunt Emma…she went to heaven to be with Jesus…"

"Oh…" Thomas says. "Is heaven a good place mommy?"

"It's an amazing place, you remember about our times going to church and the pastor speaking about where good people go?"

"Uh huh…"

"Aunt Emma was a good person so she gets to be with Jesus."

Sybil bangs loudly on a pot, babbling loudly that interrupts them.

"Is Uncle Peeta going to stay with us forever?" Thomas asks.

"I don't think so honey, but he's going to stay with us for a little while until his leg gets better."

"Okay…"

"Besides, you like having Sybil around to play with don't you?" Holly asks, adding the potatoes to a big pot of stew on the stove.

"Yes Mommy, but she can't really play yet. She can't walk and you have to be careful what you leave around because she'll eat it"

"That's because she's just a baby. Babies need special attention when they're young because they are so small and don't know any better of what not to eat. They can't run or feed themselves yet. You were once a baby too."

"I was?"

"Yes you were, you were a precious little thing."

"Did I drool and make messes too?"

"More than your fair share honey…"

"But now I'm a big boy, I can count to thirty-six, run, colour and say my ABCs."

"Yes you can, now can the big boy please put his toys away and help Mommy set the table for Daddy when he comes home?"

"Okay…"

Thomas gathers his toys and puts them away and gathers the spoons and forks.

Holly continues stirring the pot of stew on the stove and looks down at the little girl at her feet. Sybil is clanging away on the pot and screeching. Holly feels as if the little one is banging out her frustrations on the piece of kitchen wear. To lose her sister in such a disaster and her parents even earlier, it will undoubtedly affect how she grew. She knew Peter would do his best to be a father to her, but he is only one man and he's still quite young to be put in this position. She knows he will have to deal with Emma's company as well. In this situation, Peter would be the heir to the company, but since there is no documentation that the couple married and that most of the witnesses are most likely dead, it would be hard to prove. It is not like Peter wants to run the company anyways, he's so depressed, Holly can barely stand it. She feels so sad for her brother. He mostly stays in the spare bedroom upstairs all day and when he does get up, he never comes downstairs. Holly has to bring him his food and she often sees him just staring out the window, as if waiting for Emma to walk through the door. He's also made no contact with Emma's father's company to at least tell them that there is still one living heir left. It would be a lot for a tiny 7-month old child to inherit everything.

Her heart broke as Thomas often tried to engage his uncle in play or when she brought Sybil to him, he would merely smile and send them away again. Holly begins to wonder if she'll ever see her real brother again. One that was happy could crack a good joke and would dance until his legs fell off. This disaster has changed him and not for the better.

Holly had heard from her parents just a day before, but Peter barely spoke to them at all. They too could tell that their son was gone, his happiness went down with the ship. It's not like he could go anywhere anyways, Carl would drive him to the hospital and back for inspections on his leg and Peter was supposed to take it easy for approximately another two weeks to make sure everything healed. Peter wobbled around on a crutch if he moved at all.

Holly picks up Sybil and puts her in Thomas' old high chair that Carl had brought up from the basement. She felt like a new mother all over again, taking care of Sybil, feeding and clothing the young child. She adored Sybil and thought of her as her own daughter, but the extra work was hard on Holly. She had a rambunctious three-year-old to keep in line already, plus all the housework and helping her brother get around. She was almost at her limit, she knew Peter had to get on his feet soon, so she may never see her brother's smile again.

Carl comes into the house from the factory covered in grease and smelling like melted steel. However, Thomas runs over yelling and jumping into his father's arms. Carl comes into wash up at the sink from the steel factory, kisses Holly while Thomas grabs his father's hat to wear on his head.

"How are you?" he asks, putting Thomas down grabbing the soap.

"I wish I was better," is the answer.

"Has he done anything today?"

"Not yet," Holly sighs. This had been what Carl asked every day he came home and the answer was always the same.

"He needs to get outside more," Carl says.

"He needs to get back on his feet…" Holly says.

"He can't Mommy, his leg is hurt," Thomas blurts.

"It's a metaphor buddy," Carl explains. "What Mommy means is he needs to get back into the world again, go back to work and such."

"Oh…" his son says, before sitting down at the table.

"Can someone come and help me please?" a voice from the top of the stairs calls.

"I got it," Carl says and leaves the kitchen.

Peter had been trying to come down to family meals now, despite how much of a struggle is was, at least he was moving a bit more.

Holly serves the stew into small bowls for the children and then the adults. Carl and Peter hobble into the kitchen and Peter sits down in the same chair he sat in the night he came here. Peter looks the same as he did before, his blonde hair messed around a bit and dark circles under his eyes. Holly knew that her brother was having trouble sleeping, she could hear him cry and move around constantly in his bed. She can only imagine the kind of nightmares he might be having. She begins to ponder about whether her brother should see a head shrinker, something to help him get through this and get his life back together. She knew this was not good for Sybil to not be with her guardian for extended periods of time.

She brings the soup over and then sits down.

"Are there peas in her mommy?" Thomas whines.

"There are some, but I want you to have as many as you can count okay?"

There's a long silence as the family eats. Peter manages a little bit of food but picks at most of it. Carl attempts to tell everyone about his day at the factory, but her brother only feigns interest.

Holly decides to speak up.

"Peter…" Holly says.

"Yes?"

"I think you should go back to the office tomorrow."

"What? Why?" he says, showing a surprised face.

"Because…it is not good for you to be inside all day and plus, the business is probably falling apart without you."

"There is no point Holly…like I've said before since there is no documentation to prove that Emma and I were married and all the witnesses are gone, I don't have a single claim to the company. Everything goes to Sybil."

"But nobody knows that Sybil is alive… You never called them or sent a telegram to indicate such a thing," Holly points out. "How could they know that there is an heir to the company? Besides, you still work there as an employee don't you?"

"She makes a point Peter," Carl nods. "I can help you get there and everything."

"Peter we love you and we love you being with us, but we don't want you to fall apart because of what happened. You still have a job and you need it to care for Sybil. I know this is hard for you, but please…"

Peter looks down at his stew. He knows that she's right. Emma may be gone, but the world keeps on turning. He knows he's been neglecting Sybil and has not helped his sister in any way to care for her home. He's been living rent free and the guilt of this adds to his list of worries. He knows deep down that Emma would not want him to wallow forever in self-pity and grief. Sybil needs someone strong to care for her and so far he has failed miserably, leaving the infant to his sister. He knew it was time to start that transition back into life, Sybil needed him.

"You're right Holly…" Peter says after a long pause. "You were always right, it's one of the things that annoyed me growing up and made me want to pull your pigtails every time you were right." He manages a small smile.

"She's always been right," Carl adds with a grin. "She was right when she said that we would be perfect as a couple and here we are five years later…"

Holly smiles too, happy to see a little bit of her brother is back for the moment.

"Emma would never want me to be like this for so long and I owe her enough to try and help her father's company, at least a little bit. The least I can do is run it until Sybil comes of age."

Everyone looks over at the tiny tot, making a mess with her bowl of stew. The sauce was smeared on her face, the peas were on the floor, she had globs of spices in her hair and potato mush in between her fingers.

"Oh, Sybil…" Holly groans in amusement. "You're going to need a bath."

"I'll do it," Peter says with a smile.

With Carl's help, he takes his "daughter" from her seat and brings her up to the tub. Filling it with warm water, Peter undresses Sybil and places her in.

The little one splashes everything around her, including her guardian. She screeches often as Peter washes her hair and body with soap. Thomas comes in and puts some toys in for her, happy to help.

Holly and Carl watch as Peter plays with both children. The brother she loved was back. She knew he didn't go forever. It would take some time, but he could soon move along, not past Emma, but just enough to function as a father to Sybil.

Holly leans against Carl as Peter teaches Thomas how to squirt water with his hands.

"I think you did the right thing…" Carl whispers.

"You think so?" Holly mutters. "Because I feel a bit guilty."

"Don't, he's a man now, Holly. He has to make his own decisions and he has to be a father to Sybil. He had to get back on his feet. He's not a baby anymore and you can't shelter him forever."

Holly smiles. She knows Carl is right…for once, she loves her brother, but he has to regain his footing and fly off again. She chuckles to herself and watches as Peter shows Thomas how to blow bubbles with a straw.

"No matter how old he gets; he'll always be my baby brother."


	30. Chapter 29: A Surprise

Chapter 29: A Surprise

"Rose…?! Rose darling?!"

Rose sighs. It's been two weeks since the disaster and Rose has been doing her best to raise the money she needs for her escape. She's been acting like the lady her mother expects her to be, which frustrates her even further. She began coming down for breakfast again in the mornings and eating a bit more than before. She doesn't say much to her mother, but Ruth is busy with the wedding plans anyways. Rose decides it would be best to let her mother take over everything, keep her busy and out of Rose's hair for as long as possible. She knows Ruth loves to take control of everything and since Rose doesn't plan to be around for the wedding, she lets her mother make all the decisions. One would think that Ruth was the one getting married.

Rose's new façade is painful and tiresome. She wears all the dresses her mother picks out for her; corsets, petticoats and all, she sits most of the time in the library or in the garden, under supervision, reading boring books and merely staring out into space. She feels sick to her stomach most of the time, she feels like she is betraying Jack, being the prim and proper doll that he hated. She keeps reminding herself that she will break free, eventually. It's the only thing that keeps her from screaming out at the top of her lungs.

"Yes, mother…" Rose grumbles.

"Can you please come here, we need to pick out centerpieces for the tables."

Rose bites her lip and gets up to do so. She puts down a frightfully boring book about William the First of England, which she was forcing herself to read for the sake being the "perfect girl."

She goes into the kitchen and sees her mother with the florist looking at several pictures/designs for the centerpieces for the wedding.

"Now I like this one the most…" Ruth was saying as Rose enters. "White roses are indeed very romantic for such an important occasion."

The florist smiles. "Yes ma' me, I will keep your opinion in mind, but it will be your daughter's final say."

"Of course, it will be," Ruth says sternly. "I just like my opinion to be heard."

 _We all know that!_ Rose grumbles in her head.

The supposed young bride to be sits down and looks at the different layouts in front of her. The sketch work of the flowers reminds her a lot of Jack's artwork, which causes a lump to form in her throat. She examines each centerpiece carefully, all of which are beautiful in their own way. She knows it seems rather pointless to be looking at things like this, since she doesn't plan to be around for the wedding anyways, but she knows she must bite her tongue for now.

Rose particularly likes the Lily place setting, it has always been her favourite flower; her namesake came in a close second, but Rose knows that in order to gain her freedom a bit more, she has to agree with her mother at every chance she got.

"I think they are beautiful, but…the white roses suit the venue the most."

Rose can hear her mother sigh in satisfied relief and takes the designs back and gives them to the florist.

"White roses it is," Ruth says proudly, feeling very happy that her daughter was seeing sense now.

The florist gets up to leave.

"I'll be back tomorrow with the bouquets," he says.

"Thank you very much," Ruth says. "Wendy will show you to the door."

Wendy was the new maid for both Rose and Ruth to replace Trudy who died in the disaster. Rose could tell that Wendy was eager to please her new mistresses. She was young and inexperienced, something Rose could tell quite often as her mother was constantly scolding Wendy when she did something wrong. Rose felt sorry for the girl, to be working for her mother and yet she wanted to get to know Wendy better. Trudy had been her friend and confidant when she needed it most and Rose was sad to lose her as well as Jack and Emma.

Later on that day, Rose was in her room staring at herself in the vanity mirror when Wendy comes in.

"I'm terribly sorry Miss…" Wendy says. "But I was told to clean the fireplace."

"That's perfectly alright Wendy come right in."

The young girl struggles with her equipment as she drags it over to the fireplace. She begins scrapping ashes into a dustpan. Rose sits in her rocking chair and pretends to read a book about Queen Elizabeth the First. Rose decides that now was as good of a time as any to get to know Wendy.

"So Wendy, where are you from exactly?"

The maid looks up in surprise. She never expected one of her mistresses to speak to her other than to give her orders. Her mother, who had also been in service had told Wendy never to speak unless spoken to and to never see their masters as their friends.

"I'm sorry Miss?"

Rose could tell the girl was surprised.

"It's alright Wendy, you can talk to me, I'm not like my mother at all. I do not see you as an employee, but as a friend."

"Really Miss?!" Wendy says.

"Yes," Rose smiles. "Tell me about yourself."

"I'm from Illinois originally Miss, I grew up on a farm until my father moved us here to Philadelphia. He said the farmland was going dry and he had a better chance of making money in the city, so we moved here when I was about…ten or so. My mother works as a maid as well and my father in a factory. When I was old enough, I began working in service as well."

"What's that like?" Rose asks. "Working in service."

"It can be hard," Wendy admits, scraping at the ashes in the fireplace. "Especially if your boss is not very nice or when the work is hard, but most of the time it is okay"

Rose can tell that was a jab at her mother but says nothing. "Do you think you want to be in service all your life?"

Wendy swallows hard before answering. "No Miss, I do not really want to be in service all my life."

"What do you want to do?" Rose asks.

Wendy is scared that if she reveals her long kept secret, she might be made fun of. Her mother told her to bury her dream because people in their class hardly ever had their dreams granted, but Wendy still hoped. She decides that Miss Rose is nice enough to keep her secret and would never scold her for dreaming about it.

"I wanted to be a writer Miss, Like Charlotte Bronte or Margret Fuller or Jane Austen, but the chances of that happening are very small."

"Don't say that Wendy, everyone has a chance to be anything they want to be," Rose says. "Nothing is ever impossible!"

"It is for me, Miss…" Wendy says glumly, putting more ashes into the bucket next to her.

"No, it's not, I'm sure you can write down anything you wanted to and then get it published."

"I can't write Miss…"

"Can you read?"

"No, Miss I can't read at all…"

"Would you like me to teach you?" Rose asks.

Wendy drops the dustpan on the floor in shock, spilling ash and dust everywhere. Wendy immediately gets down on her hands and knees to clean up the mess. Rose goes down and helps her.

"I'm so sorry Miss Rose, you don't have to help it was my mistake," Wendy says frantically.

"But I want to help Wendy, you see if I'm going to be a wife someday, I must learn to clean up messes and such."

Wendy looks confused. "Wouldn't your husband have staff for that miss?"

Rose nods, knowing she doesn't know Wendy well enough to tell the maid her plan yet.

"It never hurts to be prepared," Rose shrugs. "But getting back to the reading and writing, I'd be happy to teach you."

Wendy can barely believe her ears. No one has ever offered her anything before and she can't help but feel very grateful to Miss Rose. She begins wondering if her dream to be a writer could possibly come true.

"Are…are you sure Miss Rose,"

"Of course, I'm sure and I mean it too."

Rose smiles. She needs something else to do with her time and she feels like she needs to rebel a bit more. She wants to help the maid as best she can, help Wendy achieve her dreams like Jack was and is helping with hers. She knows that the world is changing and that everyone should be given a chance to do something great and do what they want to do. She doesn't want Wendy to waste her life in service to others, she deserves her chance to break free.

A wonderful feeling is growing inside of Rose, excitement, she wonders is this is what Jack felt like when he was helping her.

"B-But I can't pay you or…"

"Don't worry about payment Wendy…" Rose says. "I'm doing this as your friend."

"F-friend?" Wendy says in awe. She doesn't have many friends of her own and Miss Rose seems so nice, much nicer than her mother and different. Miss Rose is daring and willing to risk her reputation to help a lowly maid.

"Yes, I hope you will let me be your friend."

Wendy leans over and impulsively hugs Rose. There are tears in the maid's eyes.

She suddenly pushes back in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry…"

Rose laughs, pleased to have a hug from someone she cares about.

"It is perfectly alright," Rose smiles. "Come up after everyone's gone to bed and I'll start teaching you."

"But what can I do to repay you?" Wendy asks insistently.

"Would you be willing to teach me about cooking and cleaning…all the things that make up a good housewife?" Rose asks.

Wendy looks bewildered and very confused. Why would a lady of such high society want to learn about service work?

"Are…are you s-sure you want to…?"

Rose nods. She knows this is part of her plan to start over, she will need to learn to cook and clean and basically care for herself when she is on her own. She needs some kind of skills to help her in the real world.

"It would be wonderful to learn, we will be teaching each other," Rose smiles.

Wendy nods hesitantly. "Please keep in mind Miss Rose, I am not very good."

"You are good enough for me," Rose says. "Besides, how would I know that you are doing anything wrong?"

Wendy smiles.

"WENDY!" a voice calls from down the hall.

"I better go," Wendy says. She gathers her supplies and turns to leave.

"I can't thank you enough Miss Rose."

"Please, Wendy call me Rose."

…

Two more weeks later, Rose is feeling better and better every day. The lessons with Wendy are going well, she is picking up on everything really quickly. They practice writing in her room on the floor, usually by candlelight, and then has Wendy read out passages from different books in whispers. She feels amazing, sharing what few skills she ever got from finishing school with someone who needs them more than she does. Rose wonders if she could ever be a teacher when she starts her life over.

Rose is learning from Wendy as well. She often sneaks down to the kitchen and watches Wendy and the cook makes dishes for the house. She asks lots of questions and her reasoning to the cook is that she wants to make a good housewife. None of the other employees question it and since she is with the maid at all times, Ruth hardly pays attention to it. The mother is too busy with wedding plans anyways. Rose also watches Wendy clean and fold the laundry as well as wash the windows, dust the halls and mop the floors. On the odd occasion, Wendy allows Rose to try her hand in cleaning, it's not easy at first, but Rose learns quickly.

The sessions with Wendy are a distraction from the wedding plans. Rose has been forced to pick bouquets, china patterns and place settings as well as trying different food items and cake flavours. Rose always picks the one her mother wants, making the decision process a little easier and gives her more time to spend with Wendy. Rose's days are so busy that she's exhausted by the end and ends up sleeping a lot more. She's noticed she feels a bit more drained now and dizzy on the odd occasion. She wonders what is wrong with her, perhaps all the rushing around and multi-tasking, but that all changed quite quickly.

It is a Wednesday morning; Rose is sorting through some of Wendy's practice papers as the maid dusts the room.

"You are doing very well Wendy" Rose compliments the young girl. "Soon you'll be a regular Jane Austen."

"Thank you so much, Miss… uh sorry, Rose,"

"You are…"

Suddenly, Rose becomes dizzy and runs to the bathroom.

"Miss Rose!" Wendy the maid gasps in horror, rushing to her aid.

She barely makes it to the toilet before she throws up the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

Wendy wrings her hands in a worried fashion as she watches the mistress lean back in what seems like exhaustion.

"Are you alright Miss Rose?" Wendy asks.

Rose goes to the sink and washes her mouth out before answering.

"I'm alright Wendy… At least I think I am."

"Can I get you something?" Wendy asks.

"A glass of water please…" Rose moans, the blood racing from her head, making it pound.

"I think you should lie in bed for the rest of the day," Wendy suggests.

"Really Wendy, I will be fine…" Rose tries to reassure her friend. She tries to stand up but has to grab the sink for support.

"You certainly do not look fine… please just lie down for a little while." Wendy pleads.

"Alright, I will," Rose nods. She lies down and Wendy goes to fetch her some water.

Rose feels a little bit better after a short nap and some water. Her strength comes right back and she's able to function for the rest of the day. It seems so strange, but Rose assumes that it is from all the rich food she ate for the menu selection. She is soon able to eat again and eats more than her fair share.

Wendy tells Rose that she told her mother and Ruth actually comes to make sure she's okay. Her mother insists her daughter get as much rest as possible. However, the next day and the day after, the same thing happens, she throws up, she rests and then is very hungry at dinner time. She is strangely asking for seconds and drinking quite a lot of sweet drinks like lemonade.

When she asks for a second piece of pie for dessert, her mother scolds her.

"Rose, please you cannot eat all that, you will get fat and then you won't be able to fit into the wedding dress I ordered for you. It is a custom designer, made to fit your specific measurements, plus if you eat too much your stomach will become upset again."

Rose tries not to roll her eyes in annoyance.

"I will be fine mother."

"You most certainly will," Ruth says gruffly. "I have set up an appointment with the doctor for tomorrow at 9:00. Wendy will accompany you."

"Don't give yourself a nosebleed, mother there is no need for you to waste money on a doctor when I feel fine."

Ruth looks sharply at her daughter but continues on.

"I'm not wasting money, I want my daughter in perfect health for the wedding and that will clearly not happen if you carry on this way."

Rose swallows the last piece of pie and bites her lip. She did find her appetite and vomiting unusual, but not enough to warrant a doctor. She decides there is not point in arguing with her mother.

"Alright, I will go."

"Good, and see if he can get you any diet pills, all that extra food can cause you to put on a few pounds."

"Yes Mother," Rose groans

…

The next day, Rose and Wendy walk to the doctor's office together.

The doctor is an elderly gentleman, about 50 or so, with a kindly smile and a firm demeanor. He greets Rose and then checks her over thoroughly. He listens to her current symptoms and then leaves the room to confirm something. Rose can see his expression is confused and possibly skeptical. She wonders if she has a stomach virus or something like that.

The doctor comes back in.

"Well, Miss Bukater, I can tell you what you have,"

"Good, is it a stomach bug doctor?" Rose asks.

"No, but I will have to reject your mother's request for dieting pills or anything to make you lose weight. The "overeating" is common in your condition…"

"My…condition?" Rose swallows.

"You're pregnant Miss DeWitt Bukater,"

Rose's heart skips a beat. She can feel a rush of emotions, happy, sad, scared and angry all at the same time. She knows immediately that it is Jack's. She has a little piece of him inside her. She knows that this will cause numerous problems with her mother and Cal, but she wants to savor the moment knowing that Jack will not be lost forever. Her eyes fill with tears.

"Don't cry Miss Bukater," the doctor says. "There are many steps you can take to deal with this…"

"Deal…?"

"Yes, adequate diet and exercise will ensure the baby's health and I can give you some brochures for adoption."

"Adoption?!" Rose gasps in horror.

"Why yes…" The doctor says. "Pardon me, but I'm sure your…fiancé will not be pleased, with the wedding and..."

Darn Philadelphia society! Of course, the wedding would be all over the news. Rose almost gets up and slaps the doctor. How dare he assume that she would not want this baby. This baby was the last piece of Jack and her time with him and this doctor is assuming that she wants to give it up.

"Of course, if you do not want adoption we could always terminate…"

Rose gets up and leaves right then and there. She can't believe what she is hearing, she will most definitely not get rid of this baby. She rushes to the office with Wendy scrambling after her.

"Miss Rose, what is it?" she says, rushing to catch up with her.

"It's nothing Wendy…" Rose lies. She trusts Wendy, but not enough to disclose this secret…not yet. "He would not give me the pills, but it is just a stomach virus, it will clear up soon."

"That is good to hear Miss, your mother will be pleased."

 _Yes, she will._ Rose moans in her head.

When she gets home she tells her mother the news and then goes up to bed for some rest.

She lays on her bed and allows the emotions to come back up. She cries in sadness that Jack would never meet their child, hold him or her when they are born, to see their first step. She also cries in the joy that this baby is Jack's, he will always be with her. She also cries in stress because she knows she will have to work even harder in order to raise this child alone. She starts wishing that Jack was still alive. She knows that she has to move her plans of escaping up before her mother starts to suspect things. She knows if her mother or Cal learned about it, they would force her to terminate the pregnancy. If they did, she would most likely kill herself.

Rose pushes the stresses from her head, wanting to only focus on the positive right now. This baby was a gift, not a burden. She thinks about what the baby will look like. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have Jack's eyes and hair? What about her red curls? Would it be as cute as Sybil was? Would he or she be a beautiful artist like their father? Whatever the baby was, Rose was certain that she would be a better mother than Ruth ever was and she would love this child until her last breath.

She fell asleep that night, dreaming about the perfect child, a new ray of happiness in her life. She was no longer alone and something good came from that horrible tragedy. She was going to break free…

For her child and for Jack.


	31. Chapter 30: Fresh Start

Chapter 30: Fresh Start

The house is empty when she gets home from work. She goes to the kitchen and gets herself a glass of water. It's been a long and tiring day at the office. Nothing, but paperwork and she ended up skipping lunch to finish up some more case files. And still through everything, no one has heard from Peter or anything about Sybil, either.

Emma sits down at the kitchen table and lets a few tears fall from her eyes. It's been so hard for her for the past week and a half. Running a business and trying to maintain a household with only one arm, her strength drains to zero very quickly. And without her husband to support her and her baby sister's smiles to come home to, her depression is evident and faith in life overall is low. Lying in her bed at night, she was wide awake, without Peter's arm around her and not waking up to her sister's happy squeals, making Emma feel more alone than when her parents died. When she did go to sleep, her nightmares were worse than the ones that she had had on Titanic. She ended up lying awake until the sun rose in the morning and the cycle started all over again.

Now, her house is merely a hollow place of memories. Her kitchen is where her mother taught her to cook and always smelled of delicious goods, the living room is where her father would sit and read the paper with a glass a whiskey in one hand and herself laying next to him by the fireplace. The front yard where Emma and Peter shared their first kiss and where Emma would sit with Sybil on a blanket and play with her. It was the house that Emma had grown up in and where she wanted to make some more happy memories when she and Peter started a family and as Sybil grew up.

Emma goes into her sister's room, which has laid untouched since they left. Her crib and toys lay all around the room ready for her sister to love and play with when she got home. If she ever came home. The young girl was searching constantly for her husband, but no one has seen of heard from them. She knew that they were alive, but in such a big city, there was little chance of finding them. For now, her baby sister's room stands empty, like a ghost town, frozen in time, waiting...

The room is also very drab. Her parents never got the chance to paint the nursery and make it the way they wanted it to look like. Her father was swamped with work at the time and with her mother's pregnancy being so complicated, she had to stay off her feet and they never got around to it. The room was a spare, one of many and had drab, beige colouring. The family basically just stuck a cradle, some toys and then a crib in there, they never really had a chance to prepare the room for like they did for her. Compared to how she grew up, Emma feels that Sybil is being neglected and almost unloved. Emma knows it wasn't her fault, but compared to Sybil, Emma's childhood seems spoiled.

Emma gets an idea at that moment.

It's never too late to start over again…

She comes up with a plan, an extension of what she had intended to do before the disaster. To have a fresh clean start, part of that scheme was to marry Peter before they got back to New York and the other was to make the most loving home she could for her sister.

She grabs some old paper and begins drawing again, something that reminds her of Jack a little bit. A lump forms in her throat, thinking of Rose and Jack, she hopes they are in heaven together and finally free from society and Cal's wrath. Emma shudders at what Rose's ex-fiancé had done to them and partly wishes, even though she feels bad about it, that the evil tycoon also went down to the ship. His actions were unforgivable. She hopes there is justice in the next life and he is dealt with properly.

Over the next few days, Emma gathers the supplies she needs for her plan. She buys fresh paint, new furniture, a few new toys and other small little accessories for her sister's room. She draws out what she wants to create and traces them out all over the room. She sees the walls as a blank canvas, ready to be given new life…a fresh coat and a fresh start.

She does get some help since her arm is still recovering. Mrs. Jamieson and their eldest daughter, Daisy, who is a few years older than Emma, come over and help her with her project. Emma uses the painting as a form of exercise for her arm. It is still quite sore, but she begins to move it more and more each day, even taking off the sling. Mrs. Jamieson and Daisy do the big jobs like coating the walls and ceiling, but Emma does the details. She takes her time, often late into the night to design and paint her ideas on the walls. She goes for a nature like feel, with a willow tree in the corner and a field filled with her and her mother's favourite flowers. Birds fly close to the ceiling and small animals peer out of the long grasses springing up from the floor.

As she does this, she feels more relaxed, the stress seems to leave her body and her grief often subsides temporarily. Much like her sketching helps her, the painting helps her too. She sees it as a form of therapy, allowing her to focus on the positive once more. Create something new and exciting, distracting herself from her current predicament of work and her missing husband. There is comfort in her work and just taking the time to do things her way. Emma feels more like herself when she's decorating.

…

By the end of two weeks, the room is done and it looks beautiful. The room seems to come alive again and looks almost like the nursery she had when she was a baby. Bright colours, layered across the canvased walls, creating a nature scene. Her designs she stenciled out seem to come to life and dance across the wall. The furniture is clean and everything is arranged as she wants it. The crib is freshly painted, the bedding is soft and there is a mobile canopy overhanging the bed. A rocking chair in front of a painted bookshelf and a toy chest that once belonged to her, now residing in one of the corners.

Emma feels a great amount of pride. She even tears up thinking about how she was fulfilling her promise of starting over, creating a loving family for Sybil to grow up. She also felt that she was slowly coming out of her depression, transitioning into someone new. The disaster had changed her, but perhaps it wasn't all bad.

The only problem was, where was her sister to enjoy it?

…

The next day, Emma is sitting at her father's old, heavy oak desk, reading through a new case file that Mr. Jamieson brought in for her. She had to give her approval and then there was a budgeting meeting she had to attend, all this and she still had paint between her finger nails. She felt less distressed today, probably because of her completed project. She was beginning to have plans to spruce up other rooms in the house. She doubts she and Peter would ever move into the master bedroom, there were too many memories there, but she could re-paint the room that she and Peter intended to share…if he ever came back into her life.

She hears loud voices coming from outside her office, she wonders if there is an upset client or some other dispute. She rolls her eyes, not wanting it to ruin her relatively good mood and then one of her father's family portraits rolls off the desk when she moves some papers. It smashes on the floor. Emma groans and goes around the desk to start cleaning it up. Her back is to the door when she hears it open. She expects it to be Mr. Jamieson or some other employee.

Someone gasps and Emma stops abruptly.

A very familiar voice yells out.

"Oh, my Gawd…Emma?!" she hears behind her.

Emma turns to see blonde hair and blue eyes looking at her, wide in shock and in happiness.

"Peter!"


	32. Chapter 31: A Sign

Chapter 31: A Sign

Jack sits on a bench in Central Park, pencil in hand, drawing two children splashing in puddles nearby. He's trying his hand at sketching moving images, much like Emma did. He slightly envies Emma's patience to capture a subject in the moment, he's so used to having his subjects pose for long periods of time, to capture every detail, especially the hands, those were always the most difficult and required a lot of attention.

He watches as the young children's parents eventually come and take them away, leaving Jack with an unfinished portrait. He sighs and looks for something else to draw. He sees a young couple walking along one of the paths by the garden. He sighs, fighting back a few tears. He opens a fresh page and tries to capture their likeness on paper. He had bought a new sketchbook and used his drawing to distract himself from his rather depressing and fruitless search for Rose.

He missed Rose, a lot. Ever since he got out of the hospital, he's been trying to find her. It has not been easy. He is basically back where he started from when he was 15, alone, no money, no hopes or dreams. At least when he was in Europe, he was with Fabrizio, a friend he could trust and travel with, someone to share his fears and problems with. He has tried finding some of her connections, looking for her name somewhere, even trying to find any friends she might be in New York. However, he only knew so much about her so his search was rather limited. He went from neighbourhood to neighbourhood, looking for odd jobs to make a little money for himself. Busting tables, some construction, drawing for ten cents when he was desperate; anything that paid even a little bit. Most of what he made went towards food and room and board. He never stayed in one place for a few days before trying to find someplace else to find work.

He sighs as the couple he was drawing begin to walk off into the distance.

 _Why did Rose even fall for me in the first place? I have nothing to offer her… and if she was here, we'd probably be cold, hungry and sleeping under some bridge. Maybe Cal was right, I am just a gutter rat…_

He closes up his new sketchbook and begins walking. He has only a few cents in his pocket. He offered to draw people, but no one seemed interested.

"I guess I can forget about a bed tonight…" he sighs.

His stomach growls, and he heads towards an area where he might be able to get a drink and something to eat. He finds a small pub and sits inside. He orders a sandwich and a cup of whiskey. He drinks the bitter liquid, hoping its strength will take his mind off the fact he doesn't have a place to spend the night.

He eats his sandwich as other patrons mingle about around him. Several men are playing billiards in the corner, laughing and drinking heavily. He sees a woman sitting in the corner, chatting up a gruff looking man. She is dressed provocatively so Jack knows she's negotiating for sex. Another few men are smoking big cigars in the centre of the room, devouring ribs off a large platter. The bartender is polishing his glasses and wiping down the counter.

"Refill ole sport?" he asks in a thick Jersey accent.

"No thank you, I don't have enough to pay for it," Jack mutters.

"Alright then…" the bartender says, before going back into the kitchen. Jack finishes his food and looks down at the counter. He finishes his drink, trying to numb the feelings of worry abut where he was going to sleep tonight. So far he had been lucky and found rather sheltered places to sleep but not this time. It was also unusually cold for the end of April and it rained a lot. Tonight, he was without money and without shelter.

Jack pays for his meal and heads outside. He pulls a cigarette from his pocket, one of his last and lights it up. He takes in a deep drag and looks up at the greying sky. It is definitely going to rain. Jack starts wondering if there was a bridge nearby that he could sleep under.

He inhales more smoke. He slightly smiles when he thinks about what Emma said about cigarettes killing him. He knows that, but he's been smoking a lot more since the disaster, it takes the stress away of losing his friends and the disaster as a whole. He thinks about Emma and what she might be doing in heaven. Drawing maybe, smiling and laughing. At least she was with her parents now, all her pain was gone…

Jack is nearing the end of his cigarette when two other men come around the corner, also smoking. They stop at the door to finish their butts.

"So did you hear that the local pastor is looking for painters?"

"No really?"

"Yes, the church is trying to restore some of their works of art. They are hiring a few blocks down the street. I hear you can get paid for it… My wife has talked about the women in her church group raising the money to have the church restored"

"That is very generous of them, it is about time that church was freshened up,"

"Indeed…"

The men drop their cigarettes on the ground and head inside.

 _Painting!_ Jack thinks to himself. _I could do some of that. It's something I'm good at. A little money could really help…_

He puts out his cigarette and begins walking down the street. He asks an elderly woman where the nearest church is and she directs him.

He walks along the streets, pulling his coat up to keep out the cold. The wind is picking up and fat raindrops begin to fall. He also has not changed his clothes in awhile, only the outfit that he wore on Titanic. The doctor at the hospital had given him some money to help him, but most of it went for the sketchbook and pencils. He was only able to buy a jacket for himself to keep out the elements.

Jack continues to walk until he finds the church. It is rather small, in a quiet neighbourhood. It actually reminds Jack of more of a house than a church. As he gets closer, he sees that there are stain glass windows and large wooden doors as the entrance. He had never been particularly religious in his lifetime, especially after his parents died and he hadn't set foot in a church in a long time.

He goes up and knocks on the church door.

An elderly man opens the door. He is dressed in all black, except for a part of his round collar which has a fraction of white beneath his throat. The man looks at Jack up and down with his gentle eyes over a pair of thin golden glasses. His lips form into a warm smile.

"Good evening to you, sir…" the man smiles.

"Hello, I heard in the small pub up the road that you are looking for artists."

"Why yes, we are, to re-paint some of our imagery on the walls and a few statues of patron saints."

"I'm an artist sir and I was wondering if I could help you?"

"Absolutely my son…may I see some of your drawings?"

Jack swallows and hands his folder over. He has only drawn so much since he got out of the hospital and not all of them were appropriate. Once, he walked into a bar and met a prostitute who was willing to pose for him. It reminded him of his time in Paris and his time Rose. He removes any nudes because he knows the pastor would disapprove of them. A lot of them were also unfinished. He picks his best and hands them over to the man. The pastor looks them over with serious eyes, Jack can't help but feel a little bit nervous.

"These are quite good," the pastor says after a few moments. "It is clear that the Lord gave you a gift."

"Yes…" Jack mumbles.

"We could certainly use your talents here," the pastor smiles.

"That's great!" Jack gasp in excitement.

"You can begin tomorrow if you like. We're still in the designing process, but painting will start soon."

"Thank you so much!" Jack smiles. He then swallows. "Does this job…uh…"

"Pay?" the pastor grins at the young man.

"Yes," Jack grimaces, turning red.

"It's not a lot, but a fair amount for a young feller like you."

"Thank you," Jack says.

There is a long silence as the wind blows through the trees outside the church.

"Is there something else?" the pastor asks.

Jack swallows hard. He doesn't want to intrude, but he needs a place to stay for the night, just until he earns some of that money.

"I uh…um…what I meant to say was…would it be possible…if it is not too much trouble to…uh…"

"To stay here?" the pastor says, staring over his glasses with a knowing smile.

"If it's not too much trouble,"

"Certainly not, we never turn away a lost soul in need of shelter."

"I wish I could give you something for your generosity but…"

"Dear boy, the Lord offered many things to many people and never once asked for anything in return except to love one another, we would be happy to welcome you here."

Jack smiles. He feels so relieved and happy, something he has not felt in awhile.

"Thank you so much," he says. "I can't tell you how happy I am…"

The pastor offers his hand and Jack shakes it.

"I promise I will help with whatever else you need in order to pay you back!" jack says.

The pastor smiles. "There is no need son, your presence is payment enough."

The pastor steps aside to allow Jack in from the cold rain. The church is much bigger than Jack had anticipated. There are pews lining the main floor and several stain glass windows on all the walls. There was a large altar in the centre, surrounded by candles flickering. In between the stain glass windows, were various holy images and depictions of different scenes from the Bible. Jack could only see a few and there were statues in all the corners of what Jack assumed were the patron saints. The icing on the cake was when he looked up, he saw a golden ceiling, engraved and carved with extravagant detail, with many more images on the tiles. He could see that some of the images were indeed in need of re-painting and Jack was more than happy to lend a hand. The ceiling was like a giant canvas that he could paint and he knew that a lot of work must have gone into creating these works of art.

"It's beautiful!" Jack says.

"It is indeed, now I'll show you to your room,"

"Thank you," Jack says. "My name is Jack Dawson."

"You may call me Father Bill," the elderly man smiles.

…

Jack spends the next week or so in the church. He assists in the designing and painting. It's a long process, but he enjoys it. The other painters he works with are very nice and talk to him, treating him as an equal. He feels so at home with the different colours and being able to sketch out the different images on the walls and ceilings. It relaxes him in some ways and allows him to forget his troubles. Jack sees Father Bill quite often, to check on the progress, Jack was offered a small room next to the organ where the choir sang. Every morning he was awakened by a young man, playing loud songs and the choir practicing. It certainly was not the perfect setting, the room was cramped and dusty, but he had a roof over his head and a job for the time being.

The painting was always put on hold for Sunday mass where Jack would sit in the back and listen to Father Bill preach to the congregation. Not a lot of what the pastor says makes sense to him, but it is nice to hear someone talk about positive things, about mercy and the goodness of people. It puts Jack in a better mood.

However, no matter how happy his life may be going, Jack was still upset over Rose. He had been so busy making money that his search for her had come to a grinding halt. As he paints, he begins to wonder what Rose might be doing. Was she still with Cal? Was she married to him? Was she living alone? Was she following her dreams?

All these questions swirled in his mind as the painting continues.

…

One day, Jack is craning his body to reach a tile on the ceiling. His body is sore and stiff; he now knows what Michelangelo felt like when he was painting the Sistine Chapel. At around lunch time, he climbs down from the scaffolding and goes to get a drink of water. The lead painter stops him in his tracks.

"No, no, no Dawson, you've got it all wrong!" one of the painters shouts. "Mary Magdalene is supposed to be washing the Lord's feet, not the dishes. Plus, there are smudges everywhere and the brush work is sloppy!"

Jack feels his fists tense up. "Look I followed the directions exactly. I spent all morning on that,"

"And you will spend all afternoon on it until you get it right!" the head painter yells.

"I need a break, and I'm not painting over it again. Besides what's the big deal if it's a little inaccurate?"

"The big deal is I want this to be perfect for Father Bill. He told me what he wanted and he wanted them accurate. I designed it and this is the way I want it!"

"You want it, you paint it!" Jack barks back.

"I'm in charge and I say fix it!" is the response.

"No God Damn way!" Jack yells so loudly that his voice echoes off the walls.

The other painters around him gasp and glare at him. Jack steps back and storms out for a cigarette. Once outside he tries to relax, the painter reminds him a lot of Cal. It's his way or the highway apparently. Plus, everything had to be perfect, like everything in that man's society! He feels the need to punch something and the cigarette does little to calm him down.

The door of the church opens quietly. Jack doesn't look up at first and sits on the stone steps of the church. Someone comes and sits down next to him

Jack swallows hard and turns to see Father Bill sitting with him.

"Come to fire me?" Jack grumbles, spewing out cigarette smoke.

"No son, I just came to see if you are alright."

"I'm fine," Jack says quickly.

"You do not sound fine son."

"What makes you say that?" Jack mumbles.

"Your anger. I can tell you are not an angry person, but something is indeed bothering you. I see the sadness in your eyes, you have seen a lot in your lifetime and you have lost someone close to you…"

Jack is surprised that the pastor was able to pick up it.

"How did you know that?"

"I can see things, I've travelled far and wide and seen many faces. I've seen faces that express pure joy like when they get married or baptize their child. And I've seen those who express pure sadness, often when they have been through a lot of hardships or lost someone close to them. You, my son, are a part of the latter, you are lost and in need of a bit of care and guidance."

There is a long pause as both Jack and the pastor sits in the noonday sun, watching people walk by the church, often stopping to wave and smile at Father Bill.

"You're right," Jack says. "I have been through a lot in the past month, I've lost many people close to me and I guess it's made be a bit bitter towards others."

"And that is completely normal, even Jesus got mad once, let his emotions. No one is ever perfect and no one is happy forever. Nor are they sad forever. It seems to me that you just need someone to listen to you. Allow you to open up and let your feelings be heard. Then maybe you can find solace and some guidance."

"How do I do that?" Jack asks.

"You know, God himself is an excellent listener," Father Bill says with a twinkle in his eye. The pastor then gets up and goes inside the church.

Jack ponders for a little while as the painters finish up for the day. He apologizes to the head painter and spends the rest of the day fixing his mistake. The supplies are soon put away and all of them go home for dinner. Jack is soon alone in the church.

Father Bill's words echo in his ears. He decides maybe the old man was right and he should just talk…

He kneels down in a few and folds his hands together.

"Hello God," he mumbles to himself. "This is Jack Dawson, I'm the son of Jack and Kathy Dawson, who are probably up there with you, if at all…"

He sighs again. He was never much into praying, he stopped believing in God after his parents died. He admits in a way he tried blaming God for taking his parents away so soon, but he couldn't. The fire was no one's fault and it just happened. Just like the _Titanic_ did.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I wanted to know if you could help me in any way, you see I met this amazing girl on the _Titanic_ and…I know it was only for three days, but I fell in love with her, but now…I've lost her. I don't know where she is and I'd really like to find her again. I know I did something bad, stealing her away from another man, but he was much worse than anyone I've ever met. I'm just hoping that you might be able to help me find her. I just want her to be safe and for her to follow her dreams."

He stops.

"I also wanted to say I'm sorry if I ever blamed you for anything that happened in my laugh. I guess I just needed someone to blame, but you never did anything. Nothing was your fault. I just felt like I needed to take my anger out on someone. I've lost my best friend, some more close friends, my parents and I guess I'm just frustrated and mad that everything happened…I feel pretty unlucky and helpless… I'm sorry…"

"I guess there isn't much more to say, but thank you for listening…Amen."

Jack leans back and looks at the statue of Jesus and the virgin Mary another painter was restoring. He gives a small smile.

"God Almighty, is that you Mr. Dawson?"


	33. Chapter 32: Reunion

Chapter 32: Reunion

Peter can't believe his eyes. He came into the office that morning with the help of Carl. He expected to be greeted by solemn faces, perhaps a few tears and questions. Questions about where he's been, if Sybil is alright, when was Emma lost, what was life like aboard the ship, how did he escape while so many others perished, how many people survived?

Instead, he found a bustling office, busy and full of happy people. He never expected to be greeted by Mr. Jamieson with a hug.

"Welcome back son,"

"T-thank you?" Peter says in confusion.

"We're glad to see you alive, please tell me, is little Sybil alright?"

"Yes…yes she is… She's staying with my sister and her husband."

"What happened to your leg?"

"I was shot aboard the ship…"

"My goodness!"

"I'm okay and I'm healing, but it's been slow"

"We're glad to have you back,"

"How are things going here?" Peter asks, limping along with his crutch.

"Very well, we're expecting a few more case files in the next little while, perhaps even some from survivors for damages against the _White Star Line_!"

As Mr. Jamieson goes on and on. Peter is confused by the mood, he'd think there would be some respect for Emma's memory and the one's from _Titanic_ , many people lost loved ones including himself. Instead, everyone is acting like the king is coming to town or America just won gold in the Olympics. His world has been nothing, but misery since he lost Emma and yet the business couldn't be doing better. It's as if they are benefiting from such a horrible tragedy.

He interrupts Mr. Jamieson's speech.

"I don't know if you know, but…Emma and I got married on the ship, the only problem is there is no documentation of it and all the witnesses are most likely dead, so there is no way for me to inherit the company, so everything goes to Sybil. I'm sorry…"

"What do you mean son?" Mr. Jamieson frowns.

Both of them make it towards Mr. Carson's old office.

"You do know that Emma…"

The door opens and the words stop in Peter's throat.

Peter's heart drops and he almost falls over in shock. Standing in front of him is his wife, very much alive. She looks just as beautiful as when he first saw her, two years ago. Her hair is pulled up to keep it out of her eyes and she is picking up something from the floor of the office.

He finally manages to choke out a few words.

"Oh, my Gawd…Emma?!"

Emma turns, her heart also drops and tears flood her eyes.

"Peter!"

She rushes towards Peter and embraces him with both her arms, not caring about the pain she might experience, so hard that they both topple over onto the floor. Tears are now pouring down her face. She gasps, she can barely talk, she just pulls him forward and kisses him. Peter doesn't hesitate to kiss her back, he squeezes her hard, thinking she might be a figment of his imagination and she will vanish if he lets go.

When they break apart from the kiss.

"Emma…" Peter says exasperatedly. "Are you really here?"

"I'm here," she says through the tears. "And I'm not going anywhere, not ever again."

"How… How…you're…you're…?"

"I'm alive and well," she says with a smile. She strokes his face as Peter, who begins crying too. She kisses him again.

"How did you…the ship… How?" Peter sputters.

"I promised I'd find you again didn't I?" Emma smiles. "Forever and Always."

"Alright you two, let's stand up before you both have to go to the hospital again," Mr. Jamieson says. Emma can tell that this reunion scene is not very professional, especially in front of clients.

He helps both of them up from the ground. Many people in the office are staring, but also smiling. Emma doesn't want to let go of Peter's hand. She grabs his crutch for him and helps him to a chair in the office. Mr. Jamieson closes the door.

"It's alright, everything is okay, go back to your jobs…" he calls out.

…

Later on, Emma and Peter are hugging again in front of the office, waiting for Carl and Holly to bring Sybil. Both of them are still crying.

"I can't believe you're really here," Peter sobs. "I thought I'd lost you…"

"I promised I'd come back to you didn't I…" Emma says.

"But how? Your name wasn't on the list!"

"I was unconscious for a couple of weeks after the tragedy," Emma explains. "I was also bleeding in the shoulder."

"I was going to ask you; how did that happen?"

"Well, when I got separated from Jack and Rose in the ship, I had to make my way up the decks, which were filling with water I might add. Some officer found me and took me to the lifeboats. I was watching one of them being lowered when I saw someone with red hair jump back on the ship,"

"Was it Rose?"

"It was her. I met up with them and we were going to try to stay on the ship as long as possible. Anyways, we were making our way towards the stern when a shot rang out and hit me in the shoulder. I ended up going overboard…"

"Oh, my gawd!" Peter gasps.

"I managed to wake up and swim away from the ship as it went down until I found one of the lifeboats floating nearby, one that was capsized. Anyway, I swam underneath it and stayed there until it almost sunk in the water. I wasn't alone either. Harold Bride, a wireless operator on the ship joined me. Eventually, we climbed on top of the boat with several other men. We kept it afloat until another lifeboat picked us up. I went unconscious after that and woke up in the hospital…"

Peter can hardly believe what he's hearing. He felt unbelievably guilty for not trying to find her harder. He also felt selfish that he was the one safe in the lifeboat and not his wife. What Emma had been through, did not seem humanly possible and yet here she was, standing in front of him, alive and well. He kisses her on the cheek.

"You're so brave, I can't believe you did all that!"

"It was you and Sybil that kept me going, I knew I had to get back to you so…"

A car honks and pulls up in front of the office.

"Aunt Emma!" Thomas yells as he jumps out of the car before anyone can stop him. He wraps his arms around her legs.

"Hello Thomas," she grins.

"Mommy said you were with Jesus…" he blurts.

"Well, I am not… not yet anyways," Emma smiles.

"Oh, Emma!" Holly shrieks, she brings little Sybil with her. Holly wraps her arms around her sister-in-law.

"Hi Holly,"

"I can't believe it, I just can't believe it, when Peter called us to say bring Sybil and that you were alive. We couldn't believe it."

"Well, I'm here…" Emma reaches her arms out and Holly puts Sybil in her arms. "Thank you for caring for both of them."

Tears well up in Emma's eyes and she embraces her infant sister, so happy to be with her again. The last time she saw her sister, the ship was going down and Sybil was asleep in her arms. It hurt so much to give her over to the officers to be put in the boat. But now, the bright-eyed tot is in her arms again. Emma kisses her sister a million times. Sybil, at first, is confused by all the yelling and screaming, but when she sees who is holding her, she squeals and grabs at her big sister. Emma clings to Sybil as if she will never let go again.

"Forever and always," Emma sobs happily. "I missed you so much!"

Holly is crying too, so happy to see that her brother's wife is, in fact, alive and here, to be reunited with her brother, forever. Now she's sure the old Peter will come back and everything is in the past. Carl puts his arm around his wife and kisses her on the cheek.

"Mommy, why are you crying?" Thomas asks.

"Because I'm so happy," is the answer.

Emma holds Sybil tightly and Peter pulls them both in, kissing Emma on the cheek.

"Our family is together again," he says.

The six of them pile into the small car and go towards the Carson household. The entire way, Thomas asks them questions and Emma do her best to answer them, her head on Peter's shoulder and Sybil in her arms. She has never felt so happy in a long time, overjoyed to be with those she loves the most, here to stay.

…

"What is the big surprise?" Peter asks as Emma guides him down the hall, her hands over his eyes.

"You'll see…" She says excitedly.

The entire family is now home and Emma is eager to show everyone her project. Emma asked Holly to cover Sybil's eyes, just to add to the suspense.

Emma forces Peter through the nursery door and the others follow close behind.

"Okay…" Emma says.

She lifts her hands. Peter gasps and looks around.

"It's so pretty!" Thomas yells at the top of his lungs. He immediately goes after the toys on the floor.

"Thomas!" Holly screeches in embarrassment, still trying to hold Sybil.

"What do you think?" Emma asks.

"I think it's beautiful," Peter says.

"Wow!" Carl says, bring up the rear. "You did all this yourself?"

"I had some help from the Jamieson's but yes, I did it all."

"It's amazing!" Holly says in awe. She can't help but look at all the fresh furniture and the lively coloured walls. "I've never seen such an amazing piece of art!"

Emma blushes. "It's okay, but the real critic here is the one who will be living in here…"

Emma takes her sister from Holly and holds her sister up to see everything. She brings Sybil over to the wall to look at all the pretty images. Sybil reaches out in curiosity and touches the willow tree. She screeches with delight at all the pretty colours.

"I think she likes it!" Carl says with a big wide grin.

"I can't believe you did all this!" Holly says.

"It certainly wasn't easy," Emma smiles.

Peter reaches over and puts his arm around Emma's waist.

"I knew I married the most amazing woman in the world," he smiles and the two go in for a deep kiss.

Emma looks over at her brother's family.

"Why don't you all stay for the night?" Emma suggests. "It's too late to drive back to SoHo tonight anyways."

"Oh, Emma we couldn't possibly…"

Emma smiles at Holly. "I won't take no for an answer, I see it is a way to repay you for caring for Peter and Sybil this past month…please?"

Holly looks over at Carl and then they look at their son who's playing with all the assorted toys on the floor.

"What time is dinner?" Carl grins.

…

The night is calm and quiet. Emma is walking back and forth on the nursery floor, rocking her sister to sleep. She hums softly, so happy to have her sister back. Now she would fulfill her promise to her parents, to raise Sybil as her own and give her a loving home. Sybil sighs contently in her sleep, most likely pleased to be back in familiar arms. Peter watches his wife from the doorway, a smile on his face.

"I cannot believe you're standing here…" he whispers. "When I watched the ship go down, I…"

"Let's not talk about that right now…" Emma cuts in. She sighs, and puts Sybil in her new crib. She looks down at her angelic sister, sleeping peacefully now.

"Did you know if Jack and Rose…?" Peter starts.

Emma shakes her head and the tears come up. She puts her hand to her face to contain the tears. She had been so stressed and so occupied with putting her life back on track that she forgot to mourn for her friends. Two friends who showed her how to have fun again, two friends who were there for their wedding, two friends whom she risked her life helping them so they could have a chance at love. Two friends from such different worlds, coming together in the most unlikely way…and it seemed like in vain. Two friends' who's lives ended too soon. Emma puts her hand to her mouth to muffle her sobs. Peter is immediately at her side, allowing her to lean into him.

The pain was slightly numbed now that she had her beloved Peter to lean on, but Emma still weeps very hard for her friends. Jack and Rose. Rose and Jack, two people whom she would never see again. Peter too feels heavy in the heart, sad that two lives were ended so tragically. The two stand in the middle of the nursery, holding one another up, crying, mourning for what might have been.

Eventually, Peter suggests that they go to bed, as his sister's family were already fast asleep in two of the guest rooms. Emma looks up at Peter and kisses him hard.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" Emma whispers.

"I was going to ask myself the same thing," Peter smiles gently. Emma can't help but smile too.

They kiss again and then walk to their room. They dress for bed and then curl up in each other's arms.

Emma and Peter lay quietly as the moon casts a pure white glow through their window. They think about everything that they have been through in the past few months, the good and the bad. Everything seemed so uncertain and quite scary, especially for the young adults that they were. Everything seemed to happen so fast and many of the events that had happened were beyond their control. When could they begin to live their lives the way they wanted?

Emma rolls into Peter's arms.

"I love you…" she whispers.

"I love you too." He answers.

"Forever and always?" she asks.

"Forever and always."


	34. Chapter 33: His Return

Chapter 33: His Return

"Rose darling? Are you decent?"

Rose rolls her eyes and sighs to herself. "Yes, mother please come in…"

Ruth comes in to see her daughter in front of the vanity mirror, putting her red curls up into a simple bun.

"Rose, really, you should have Wendy do that for you…"

"Yes mother, I understand, but she is busy with her other chores and I don't want to bother her. Anyways, I can manage"

"Regardless…" Ruth begins but decides to leave it.

Ruth looks skeptically at her daughter. She was pleased that Rose's behaviour had changed significantly, making her seem like a proper lady and she seemed to have forgotten that third-class boy. She seems much more focused than ever before on their "situation" and yet…she is still showing signs of undesirable behaviour, especially in her words and her time spent in the kitchen and with the new maid. She has been told by Rose several times that she is simply learning what it takes to be a good housewife, but Ruth is still skeptical. That is the whole purpose of maids and servants; her daughter should be focused on looking gorgeous on her wedding day and becoming a high society lady.

"Anyways, the boutique just called, your dress has been shipped to the store. They would like you to try it on the day after next, as well as get the bridesmaid's dresses fitted. I will have Wendy place the calls to those in the party and we will make a day of it."

Rose forces a smile. Her stomach is threatening to become upset again, this baby was certainly active. But she knew she had to keep composed for her mother's sake. "That sounds lovely mother. What colour did we agree on for the dresses?"

"Royal blue, which will match the ties of all of Caledon's groomsmen as well as the Heart of the Ocean, Caledon insists you wear such a magnificent present on the best day of your life. I have spoken to the tailor and he will make sure everyone matches accordingly, I have also added white rose corsages to all the suits so they match the venue."

"Thank you mother," Rose says. "I really appreciate you doing all this."

This was the truth but for a different reason. As long as her mother was busy, Rose could continue preparing for her escape and helping Wendy with her schooling. However, Rose did feel some guilt deceiving her mother into thinking that she was looking forward to the wedding, so much money was going towards the ceremony. She then reminds herself of Jack and it was only money going into the wedding, no love or care and it especially did not feel like it was "her" celebration, only her mother's. This was not her life; she truly was "mailed to the wrong address" as Jack had put it.

Ruth smiles proudly. She had taken over most of the planning for the wedding, but it was the least she could do for her daughter as she recovered from the trauma of the disaster. Titanic had deeply affected Rose and Ruth was surprisingly understanding. Not only had they lost their beloved maid, Trudy, but apparently, the sinking had made Rose afraid of Caledon, for reasons only the two of them knew. That is why Ruth had suggested Caledon take some time away to allow Rose to re-cooperate and move along. Life did not stop simply because a ship went down.

Organizing for the ceremony also distracted Ruth from the disaster, which she was also traumatized from, many good people were lost aboard that vessel and she had much sympathy for the widows, especially Madeline Astor, who now carried John Jacob's heir and would be forced to raise it by herself. She herself had been a widow for quite some time and understood their pain, but again, life goes on and Ruth soon had much more to worry about learning of her husband's debts. She was working hard to ensure their family name remained intact and that Rose was taken care of. Ruth knew that she would not be around forever, her husband's death taught her that, so someone had to watch over her little girl and make her happy.

"I am sure you are," Ruth says smiling. "I will down in the library if you care to join me."

"Thank you mother," Rose says.

When her mother leaves, Rose races to her bathroom and empties her stomach. The discomfort had become quite overwhelming that Rose wasn't sure if she could hold it in any longer. She was nervous, the stress of hiding the pregnancy was getting to her, she knew that soon Wendy and her mother would suspect something. Wendy was someone she could trust with a secret, but Rose wasn't ready to share. This would lead to an explanation of her carrying another man's child. A man she actually loved.

…

The following day, there is a knock at the door. Rose is walking through the upstairs hall when a booming voice echoes into the house.

"Hello there, young lady, Would Ruth and Rose Bukater be in residence?"

Rose's heart leaps. She races down the stairs to be greeted by the big brown eyes and warm smile of Molly Brown. The heiress is dressed in a large hat with a feather and lovely blue coat which was unbuttoned due to the warm weather.

"Molly!" Rose says. She goes over and embraces the woman.

"Hello darling, how are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm…I'm good," Rose says as earnestly as possible.

"You most certainly are, you look well, you're practically glowing!"

Rose blushes. She knows the pregnancy was contributing to that. She turns to the maid. "Thank you, Molly. Wendy can you please go and inform my mother of Mrs. Brown's arrival."

"Yes, Rose…" Wendy says and disappears into the house.

"Quite formal, I assume you two are becoming friends?" Molly asks. Rose nods solemnly and takes Molly's coat to hang it in the closet.

"What do we owe this honorable visit?" Rose asks, trying to keep the mood positive.

"Well, my son had some business to tend to here and I thought, hey, I'd tag along, pop by and visit the DeWitt Bukater girls."

"Well, you are most certainly welcome," Rose says earnestly. She missed Molly a lot. She assumed that her mother had denied the two a visit since the disaster because Ruth saw Molly as a bad influence. Molly was a free spirit, an independent thinker and much to many people's shocks was from "new money" something that did not fit with the generations of ancestors handing down their fortunes to their children. But Rose likes Molly, she was so positive and warm that Rose wished that she had been raised by her instead of Ruth. Rose knew that she would've thrived under Molly's care. What added to Molly's resume as a socialite was that she was an advocate of Women's Rights, something that Emma had been passionate about as well. It was quite often when Rose would pick up the paper and see something about Molly doing fundraisers or organizing speeches for women's right to vote and have jobs. Jack had also told Rose that Molly had helped him prepare for the dinner on Titanic. For that, Rose would be forever grateful.

Ruth comes down the hallway and does her best to hide her disappointment of seeing Molly Brown on her doorstep. It is true Molly was her friend, but the woman was too strong for Ruth's taste and would definitely corrupt Rose's current behavior.

"Margret Brown! What a wonderful surprise!" Ruth says, forcing a smile.

"How are you, Ruthie?" Molly asks.

"I am fine to thank you, to what do we owe this visit?" Ruth asks, trying to hide her disgust at the nickname.

"I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would stop to visit,"

"Well that is quite wonderful, why don't we go to the library and Wendy can bring us some tea?"

"Sounds good, I haven't eaten since this morning."

Rose and Molly walk together to the library, Ruth leading the way. Once among the vast array of books and titles, Molly makes herself at home on one of the velvet couches, Rose sitting next to her and Ruth across the way.

"So…Molly, what brings you to town?" Ruth asks.

"Well, my son had some business to attend to and I had to talk to some of my fundraising supervisors about the formal dinner we're having next month in New York and I'd thought I'd stop by,"

"Well, your timing could not be more perfect," Rose says. "We were going to go to the boutique tomorrow to try on my wedding dress and I was wondering if ..." Rose wanted someone she actually liked to be at the fitting.

"Rose!" Ruth interrupts. "I'm sure Molly has more important things to do than to come to a fitting…"

"I'd love to!" Molly says happily as Wendy brings in the tea on a tray. Molly helps herself to a cup and pours some for the Bukaters as well. "I'm not going back until Thursday and I'm not meeting the gals until Wednesday night so I'd be happy to tag along."

Ruth bites her lip firmly. The last thing she wanted was an uninvited guest to "tag along" to the fitting, but Rose seemed insistent, plus it would be good to get another society woman's opinion.

"Alright then, we will be leaving tomorrow at nine o'clock."

The phone suddenly rings. Wendy answers it in the hallway. She knocks on the library door.

"Sorry to disturb you Mrs. DeWitt Bukater, but the telephone is for you."

"Excuse me, ladies," Ruth says, feeling relief to be excused.

"That's quite alright Ruthie," Molly nods.

When the door closes, Molly turns to Rose. Her expression suddenly serious.

"How are you, Rose?" Molly asks.

"I'm fine Molly," Rose murmurs.

"I don't buy that for a minute, the last time I saw you, you were running off with that child, back into a sinking ship to rescue that young boy…how are you?!"

Rose looks at Molly confused until she understands. She can feel her emotions begin to boil up, but it might just be the baby hormones. Tears fill her eyes.

"Oh, darling…" Molly says gently. "I'm so, so, so sorry. He was such a fine boy,"

Rose leans into Molly, who welcomes the girl with open arms. Rose is permitted to cry, finally able to have the comfort of someone who cares about her feelings. All the feeling she had buried in order to keep up her façade for freedom, come up to the surface, plus the stress of carrying the baby.

"But Rose, what are you doing here? Back where…" she drops her voice. "Back where you are miserable, I have nothing against your mother of course, but I can see that you are special, you don't deserve this world, you deserve more…"

Rose nods and wipes tears from her eyes.

"I'm working on that Molly," Rose says in a hushed voice. She looks around. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course child,"

Rose swallows hard, nervous about sharing her secret with anyone, but Molly was someone she could trust, maybe could even help her.

"I plan to run away, sometime soon, the only problem is that I'm still on lock down with my mother, constantly being watched, so I have to act the way my mother wants, just until I can get enough money to get out on my own and she'll stop having me monitored. I don't care what you may think about me Molly for running away but I just need to get out of here. I can't live my life as a caged bird."

Molly is silent for a moment and then puts her arm around Rose. "I think you are the bravest woman I've ever met Rosie,"

"You do?"

"Indeed, I do, You're young Rose, you have talent, you have gifts. I definitely don't want you stuck with a man you don't love; in a world, you don't belong in. You're something special and you deserve a chance to be free. I'd never look down on a woman who's trying to do her best."

"Really?"

"Yes,"

"So that is why I'm suffering through cake tastings and dress fittings, just until I can find the time to escape."

"Well honey, at least let me help you with that…"

"No thank you, Molly, I need to do this on my own, plus what if word got out that you were helping someone's daughter escape, your reputation would be ruined,"

"Darlin' haven't you learned anything by now, I don't care about any reputation,"

"Still," Rose says. "I can't live off of someone my whole life, I need to make it on my own."

"Rose honey I insist you take some money…"

"No thank you, Molly," Rose says just as insistently. "I have many paintings to sell and my jewelry is worth a good amount too."

"Are you sure?"

Rose smiles and nods. Out of everything that has happened to her, Rose is more sure that she's ever been. She needs to make it on her own. It's what Jack would've wanted for her and their child. She suddenly gets an idea. "You said you were having a dinner next month in New York?"

"Why yes…"

"Will there be a silent auction?"

"That is the plan."

"Do you mind if I donate some of the paintings for it?"

Molly looks surprised and yet pleased. "If that's alright with you…?"

"Yes and then the money can be donated to survivors who need it,"

"How about half goes to survivors and the other half goes to you?" Molly suggests.

"Molly I couldn't,"

"You need something, Rose, at least let me help you indirectly"

"But…"

"Rose DeWitt Bukater take it now or I won't let you donate the paintings."

Rose sighs. Molly was as stubborn as she was and the extra money couldn't hurt her. She just thought of those widows and survivors, who never had fancy things to sell for money in order to get by after the disaster.

"It's a deal." Rose nods and they shake hands.

"I'll call you soon about it…"

"About what?" Ruth asks, coming into the room.

"About your generous daughter donating some of her paintings for my dinner in New York next month,"

"Oh, my Rose…" Ruth says rather surprised, but also pleased that her daughter was moving on from her art obsession she'd had previously. "That is very generous of you."

"It's the least I can do for Molly," Rose says, hoping her mother is buying the bait that she's changing to become a proper lady.

"Well that is certainly okay with me, now how much are these paintings going to go for? I am sure Caledon would be happy to make his money back for buying those things in the first place."

"MOTHER!" Rose gasps in embarrassment.

"It's quite an alright Rosie. Well, Ruth, it will all depend onIndeed, but they should go for a very handsome sum."

"That is quite good to hear…"

"I'd like to add that your daughter insists that half of the money made be given to survivors of _Titanic_ …"

Ruth opens her mouth to protest, but then reconsiders. She thought of the widows who lost their husbands that day and how many did not have beautiful daughters to marry to multi-million dollar tycoons or fabulous things to sell. She did not want to seem cold-hearted and at least Rose was giving away her paintings and they were making some money from it.

"That is…alright with me," Ruth says. "It is very generous Rose,"

"You've got a generous daughter with a wonderful heart here Ruthie," Molly smiling.

"Indeed, I do," Ruth smiles as warmly as she can.

…

The following morning, Rose walks with her mother towards the boutique, accompanied by Molly Brown. The young woman resents that she's going to try on a wedding dress she's not even going to be around for, but such is the price to be free.

At the boutique, Rose is greeted by several of her friends from finishing school. Mary, Elizabeth, Lillian, Edith, another girl named Rose and Esme, all who gather around her and begin overwhelming her with questions about the _Titanic_ and about her fiancé. Many of these ladies Rose hasn't talked to in years. All of them were in the wedding party, picked by her mother not her. Rose never particularly liked any of these ladies; they were all the same, talking about local gossip, discussing whose husbands made more money and the latest styles. Today, however, the girls seemed genuinely concerned for Rose and asked her how terrible the disaster was.

"Alright, alright, ladies, let's move on to happier things," Molly interrupts, much to Rose's relief. Rose knew then that she made the right choice in inviting Molly.

The stylist at the boutique is very happy to see everyone. Rose had seen this woman before _Titanic_ , she was a famous French designer that her mother simply "had to have" for the wedding. The woman was an artist, but she was frustrated with the family in general about Ruth wanting the dresses one way and Rose wanting them another way. Rose could see a pinch of discomfort in the stylist's face as she brought the dressing rack over with all the bridesmaid dresses.

"D'accord, d'accord Mademoiselles, s'il vous plait, can you please proceed to le Vestiaires to try on votre belles robes maintenant. Your names will be on votre robes. Merci'' *(Alright, Alright ladies, can you please proceed to the changing rooms to try on your beautiful dresses. Your names will be on the dresses. Thank you)

All the girls check the rack for their dresses and then move into the back rooms. Ruth and Molly take a seat on cushioned, velvet chairs and Rose sits with them. One by one, the bridesmaids come out in their gowns. They twirl around, giggling and posing like models in their long, flowing, royal blue dresses. Rose has to admit, they are quite beautiful, the flowery tall necklines and the added shine to them, along with the fact that the colour matches the Heart of the Ocean perfectly. Rose looks over at her mother, whose eyes seem to well with tears, most likely from the pride of picking the dresses herself. Even though they look lovely, Rose still would have preferred them in lavender, her favourite colour.

"Elles sont belles" the designer says happily. "Magnifique!" *(They are beautiful, Magnificent!)

"I like them," Molly says. "They look like works of art."

"Of course, you like them, they are the very latest in Paris right now." Ruth says."They are simply gorgeous, don't you think Rose?"

Rose forces herself to smile. "They are beautiful."

"Tant que la mariee aprouve, Je suis heureux" the designer says. "Maintenant, nous allons passer a la mariee." *(As long as the bride approves, I am happy. Now, we move on the bride)

The bridesmaids smile once more and talk amongst each other as the designer goes to get Rose's gown

"You'll like this dress, Molly, I had the material shipped all the way from Switzerland, hand crocheted and everything" Ruth brags to Molly.

"Je suis pret Rose," the designer calls.*(I am ready Rose)

Rose goes behind into one of the dressing rooms. The designer helps her out of her current clothes and into the dress. Her mother really went all out with this dress. The entire dress was made of lace, it reached up to her throat and down past her shoes. There was a train of lace that dragged behind the dress as well. Each layer of the dress had different flowery designs on it and the entire dress hugged her curves beautifully...until the designer tried to zip the dress up.

"C'est bizarre, je ne peux pas la fermeture eclair la robe." the designer says. *(That is odd, I cannot zip up the dress).

The designer tries harder, but cannot make it fit. Rose knows this is due to her baby, but she doesn't say so.

"Je suppose que je vais devoir faire quelques adjustsments . En attendant, allez montrer à tous" *( I suppose I will have to make some adjustments. In the meantime, go show everyone)

The designer adds a tiara and veil before sending Rose out in front of everyone. The room becomes very quiet when Rose steps out in front of everyone. They all stare in awe at the gorgeous sight they see before them. Rose turns to look at herself in the mirror. The girl staring back at her looks like a doll, prim, and proper. She likes the overall look of the dress, but it doesn't feel like her. It feels like her mother, plus the thick veil makes her look like she has a puffy marshmallow on her head. If Jack saw her like this, he'd laugh.

"Oh, my dear..." Ruth says, tears welling up in her eyes again. "You look so beautiful."

Rose forces herself to smile. All the other girls are staring daggers at the dress, jealous that they couldn't wear it. Rose may look amazing but she doesn't feel amazing, not by a long shot. Molly looks skeptical, frowning, reading Rose's expression. Molly knows the girl hates it and knowing what the others do not, Rose will never wear it, at least not to Caledon's wedding.

"What do you think Molly?" Ruth asks.

Molly swallows and looks past Ruth to Rose who gives her the facial expression not to raise a fuss.

"It's downright pretty that's for sure," Molly says through gritted teeth.

Rose lets out a sigh of relief.

"What is wrong here?" Ruth asks, looking at the open back where the designer couldn't zip up.

"Il ne convient pas parfaitement . Je vais devoir faire quelques ajustements , mais il faudra du temps." the designer says. *(It does not quite fit. I will have to make some adjustments but it will take time.)

"But that's impossible!" Ruth cries. "I sent you her exact measurements less than a month ago."

"Maybe you should've doubled checked before you sent it away," Molly points out.

Ruth glares at Molly but then composes herself. "I suppose," she turns to the designer. "Combien cela coûterait-il pour qu'elle soit modifiée?" *(How much will it cost for it to be modified?)

"Environ 200$" is the answer. *(Approximately $200)

"Very well..." Ruth sighs. "We will have it fixed. Go and change Rose."

Rose goes into the back and strips herself from the lacey horror. She knows the weight gain could make her mother suspicious, but for now, it simply looks like she had a big lunch. She knows she'll never hear the end of it once they get home. Rose changes back into her regular clothing. She positions herself to the side, checking. There was a little weight gain around her hips and waist, but she knew that soon there would be a bump.

...

That night, Rose is reading in the library. She felt sad that Molly had left, but relieved that she had shared her secrets with someone, someone whom she could trust. Almost all of her secrets, she knew that even Molly could judge her harshly for having a child out of wedlock and all she needed right now was Molly's trust and support. Molly left soon after the dress fitting, saying goodbye to Rose and telling them they would be in touch about the auction. Rose was then forced to endure a horrid day of shopping and luncheon with women she barely knew and her mother. She forced herself to be interested in the conversations, keeping her facade, praying for freedom once they returned home.

There is a knock at the door.

"Rose darling?" Ruth says. "There is someone here to see you."

"Send them in," Rose says, happy to put down a dull book about nothing in particular.

The dark haired tycoon comes into the room. Rose gasps and stands up. She can feel her heart pounding and angry tears coming to the surface. She had been glad to be free of Cal these past few weeks, allowing her to breathe, but now he was back again, most likely orchestrated by her mother.

"Good evening," Cal says softly.

Rose doesn't speak to him. She takes a few steps back.

Cal sighs. "Still, won't speak to me..."

"What do you want Cal?" Rose asks gruffly. The sooner he leaves the better.

"I wanted to talk to you..."

"Okay talk."

"I know you've been afraid of me since the sinking and I certainly understand why. My actions were inexcusable and I regret it deeply."

Rose crosses her arms. She knows this is bullshit that Cal made up in order to win her forgiveness. She knows that he has probably rehearsed this speech several times before coming here. She knows her mother is hoping to iron over the tension and force them back together. She notices he has something behind his back.

"What is that?!" she cuts in. She steps back, remembering the knife and pistol he had on the ship.

Cal looks down and reveals a red velvet box.

"I meant to give you this after my apology... but"

He opens the box to reveal another necklace. Rose wanted to roll her eyes in frustration. Once again, Cal was attempting to win her back with shiny things. The necklace is nice, very nice, sterling silver with several diamonds made into the shape of flowers that would hang loosely around her throat, but Rose knows the truth. This was just like the Heart of the Ocean all over again, offering her a gift in exchange for her love.

"What do you think?" Cal asks.

"You think you can buy me back with presents?" Rose snarls.

"No...but I was hoping that you would accept my apology and then I would give you this as a peace offering."

"It's not working..."

"You're stubborn Rose and I cannot understand why, but what I do know is that we love one another, I love, all of you no matter what happens to us."

"I wish I could say the same about you," Rose snaps. "But what we had is not love and never was."

"And what you had with the gutter rat was?" Cal snarls. Rose can feel his temper rising. She walks towards her father's old desk and grabs a letter opener to protect herself. This time, she would not be caught off guard.

"Whatever it was, it was better than what we had..." Rose says.

"I'd like to change that..." Cal says, more gently. "I want us to have a bright future, one filled with success and love, but you pulling away will not help this."

"I don't want a future with you..." Rose says.

"But you need it don't you with your father's debts and all?"

Rose's mouth drops open. how long has he known? Maybe he just asked a few questions at their lawyer's office, but it didn't matter anymore. She would not be blackmailed any longer.

"I don't care about the debts, I value my safety over money."

"But you will be safe, with me, free from starvation, free from the cold weather, free from the dangers of the streets, free from all harm."

"I'd rather have all of those instead of you." Rose snarls.

"Do you really think you've fooled me with your "good girl" act?" Cal asks, angrily. He takes a step towards her. "I know you are simply pretending to be a lady to gain that freedom back, but unfortunately, that will not happen again." He gets closer to her, like a tiger approaches his prey. "I will have tabs on you at all times, till the day we marry and then you are mine."

Rose clutches the letter opener tightly, she's against the wall again, her heart pounding and tears threatening to surface. She had to show courage, it was the only defense she had against Cal.

He slowly grabs her shoulders and squeezes.

"Don't fight it Rose..." he hisses. Rose gasps for air, her breath filled with panic. "You cannot escape what you were destined to do...become my wife."

Rose closes her eyes and wishes that she was anywhere else in the world. She feels as if she is slowly being strangled by a python, it's grasp wrapping around her tighter and tighter, leaving her breathless and sucking the life from her body. Her grip tightens even more on the opener. She fears for her life and the life of her child. She wants so badly to disappear, keep her baby from harm and feel safe once again.

"Goodnight Cal," she whispers.

Cal looks at her confused. He slowly lets go of her shoulders.

"Your resistance will weaken eventually," Cal mutters.

"Goodnight Cal," Rose repeats herself. She takes a step forward with the letter opener.

"You cannot threaten me, we will be married and you will be my wife," Cal says, as he starts to walk towards the door.

"Goodnight Cal," she says insistently with a hint of finality.

Cal sighs and turns to leave.

"Goodnight Rose," Cal says before shutting the door behind him.

Rose collapses into a chair and begins to cry.


	35. Chapter 34: Something Different

Chapter 34: Something Different

Emma wakes up smiling. Peter's arm is around her. She feels complete again, her life is completely back on track.

She rolls over to see Peter's face, instead of the grimace is a smile, most likely a smile of relief and happiness. She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. A sharp pain hits her arm again. She can't wait for this injury to pass so she can fully work again. She also wants to be able to hug her husband and hold her sister again.

Peter's blue eyes open to meet hers.

"Good morning handsome," she smiles.

"Good morning beautiful," he whispers.

"Sleep well?" Emma asks.

"So much better now that I know you're alive,"

Emma smiles. "I'm just glad the house is full again. It's been empty and sad since I got home."

"I just can't believe you've been running the office and the household by yourself and with one arm."

"Me neither, I just found the strength within me. I think it was the hope that I would see you again and I wanted to fulfill my promise of starting my life over once we got to back home."

Peter leans in.

"Welcome home," he smiles and leans in and kisses her.

There's a knock at the door.

"Uncle Peeta! Aunt Emma! Are you awake?"

Emma smiles. "I forgot about our guests."

Holly's voice comes from behind the door. "Thomas please, give your aunt and uncle some privacy."

"What's privacy Mommy?!"

"It means to give us some time to get dressed," Emma calls out.

She rolls over to smile at Peter. "I want Sybil to be just like that,"

"What loud and curious…?"

"Maybe…" Emma smirks. "I just want her to have a normal childhood."

"And so she will…" Peter smiles and kisses her again.

"Thomas puts that down, it's not yours!" Holly's voice rings out from down the hall.

There's a smash.

"THOMAS!"

"You ready for that?" Peter smirks.

"Parenthood, the gift that keeps on giving," Emma shrugs.

…

When Emma and Peter emerge from their room, Holly has pancakes, bacon, and eggs on the skillet. Sybil is in her high chair banging a spoon against her tray and Thomas is licking batter out of the bowl, most likely to keep the tiny kid quiet.

"Oh, Holly!" Emma says. "You didn't have to…"

"It's the least I can do after what Thomas did to one of your china vases."

"Which one?"

"A blue one with little flowers."

"It was an accident Mommy!"

"I know honey but what do you say when you break something that isn't yours,"

"I'm sorry Aunt Emma!" Thomas says shamefully.

"It's okay, it was a gift to my mother from her least favourite cousin, she only ever used it to be polite. Mom was like that…"

Holly smiles sympathetically and puts the bacon on a plate. "How do you want your eggs, Emma?"

"Scrambled please."

"Sunny side up for me please," Peter says, going out to the stoop for the morning paper.

"I know that little brother, whenever mother tried to cook them differently you threw a fit."

"I'm an adult now Holly, I won't be banging my fists and shedding tears like a toddler."

"That's Thomas' job," Carl says, coming out in his work clothes.

There is a chuckle of laughter from all the adults as the children look on in innocent confusion.

…

"No Holly, you have a home of your own… Yes, I'm sure." Emma says through the telephone. "Now that Peter is home it won't be such a chore. Besides, his leg is healing and my arm is pretty much functional again."

There is a knock at the office door. Emma and Peter both went into town that morning to get everything back on track. Holly was willing to stay home and watch Sybil once more. Peter's sister had also offered to stay longer at their house until her brother's leg was better.

"Just one moment please," Emma calls out to the door. She turns back to the mouth piece. "Holly, you have your own child to worry about. Yes, I'm going to hire someone to watch Sybil and on alternate days I will be home to care for her. I've got to go I'll talk to you later." Emma hangs up the ear piece.

"Come in," Emma says.

"Ms. Carson?" the secretary asks.

"Yes, Felicity," Emma says, organizing a case file.

"Sorry to bother you Miss, but I wanted to let you know someone came by with something interesting."

"What is it?"

"We've been asked to sponsor an upcoming dinner event," Felicity says. She hands Emma a pamphlet.

"Dinner for Women's Rights," Emma reads the pamphlet. "Hosted and run by Margret Brown and sponsored by local churches and other businesses. Silent Auction, Key Note Speaker, Local Band with Dancing, delicious dinner…It sounds interesting."

"Apparently, some of the proceeds will be going to the widows of Titanic," Felicity adds.

"Really?" Emma says. "That is definitely a worthy cause. Who sent this?"

"A representative of Mrs. Brown's committee."

"Well, please call them and tell them I would like to set up a meeting with them. Tell them I would be very happy to sponsor the event."

"I will miss, also there is another client waiting in office number 3."

"Thank you, Felicity, I will be there shortly,"

…

Emma leaves the office early to go home and help Holly. Since she was the owner and Peter was now back, she was permitted to leave earlier in order to care for her sister.

She's walking down the street when she sees a poster in one of the local shop windows.

 _Continuing Education for Men and Women,_ it read. tThe slogan is _Do Not Be Caught Without a Job_

Emma stops and thinks about it.

 _I do need business courses and few additional ones could allow me to take on cases of my own…_ Emma thinks to herself. _Maybe then some of the men at the office would treat me with more respect._

Emma goes into the shop and asks for a listing of classes available. To her horror, there were only a few, very limited number of classes available. Mostly English and Cooking. Emma is infuriated, women had just as much of a right to these classes as men. Besides, she needed these courses to run her father's business.

Ignoring the gendered labeling, Emma signs up for the classes she wants. She also adds her phone number under one of them so if they wanted to call her they would.

As she walks down the street, she thinks to herself.

 _I am most definitely going to support that dinner!_


	36. Chapter 35: Delay

Chapter 35: Delay

Jack turns from the pew to see Molly Brown staring at him in utter surprise.

"M-Molly?!"

"I can't believe it! You are alive!"

"Yes, yes I am… I guess"

Molly rushes over and gives the young man a hug. Tears begin to fill her eyes.

"Oh the good Lord does perform miracles!" Molly practically screams into the church.

Molly squeezes the boy tightly as if he is merely an apparition that will disappear if she lets go.

"Uh, Molly… I appreciate the hug, but…I can't breathe," Jack wheezes.

"Oh dear I'm sorry sonny," Molly says, letting go and brushes off the boy's shoulder. "I am just so happy you're alive and there's someone else who will faint and be happy to see you. Someone with red hair."

"Rose!" Jack gasps. "You saw her?! How is she…?"

"She's sad and she misses…"

There's a frantic knocking at the church door.

"Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown!" a voice shouts out.

Molly rushes to the hard oak door of the church and opens it.

A young man, approximately fourteen years old holds a yellow slip of paper. He seems to be sweating and in an awful hurry.

"I'm…I'm so, so sorry ma 'me, but your…your maid at your house told me you'd be around the neighborhoods! So…So I've been…"

"Calm down and take a breath Sonny, " Molly says. She helps the boy into the room. She turns to Jack. "Uh, Jack can you get this boy a drink of water?"

"Sure," Jack says and leaves to find a faucet.

"Okay, Sonny what's this all about?"

"I have a telegram for you Ma 'me, it's very urgent," the boy pants. Jack comes back with a cup of water, while Molly takes the yellow sheet of paper and reads it.

The paper falls to the floor. "Oh, my!"

"What is it, Molly?" Jack asks.

"Family emergency, I have to go... My cousin has had a heart attack! I'm sorry Jack, I have to go…"

"But what about Rose? Is she…?"

Molly can't answer when she takes the boy by the shoulders so he faces her. "Please go and flag a cab, I'll take you back where you need to go." The boy nods and goes outside.

"Molly wait!" Jack calls out.

"I'm sorry Jack I have to go, but please if you want to see her again come to the dinner I'm hosting, it's here in town. Talk to Father Bill about it…"

"Molly!"

Molly is already out the door and heading to the cab waiting for her.

"Wait, Molly, when will you see Rose again? Where can I find her?" Jack tries to yell over the sounds of the city.

"Next time I see her, I will tell her you're okay!" Molly hollers back.

"But wait where is…"

"Bye Jack!" she yells before the cab pulls away.

Jack sits down on the stoop frustrated and angry. This was the first time in awhile he's heard anything about Rose. He takes out a cigarette and lights it up. He runs his hand through his hair.

Where was Rose? Was she back with Cal? Is she already married to him? Where had Molly met her? Would Rose even be happy to see him? Here he is living in a church and working as an artist for very little money. He's basically in the same clothes he had back on _Titanic_ and he has no steady employment or even a place to call home.

"I'm in a hole…" Jack mumbles.

"Perhaps," a voice comes from behind him. Jack looks to see Father Bill looking down at him. "Or perhaps this is a sign…"

"A sign for what?" Jack mutters.

Father Bill sits next to him. "Perhaps this is a sign that your life is turning around. God works in mysterious ways my son and maybe he is rewarding you for talking to him. You asked for help and he is giving it to you."

"But I have nothing to go on, all I know is that the girl I love is out there and she doesn't know that I'm alive. For all I know, she's still marrying that jerk who is abusive and made her life miserable!"

"But you do not know that yet and it is only a matter of time before you do…"

"What do you mean?" Jack asks.

"Our church will be sponsoring a dinner run by Mrs. Brown in the next month. There is a silent auction occurring, perhaps you can donate a few items…"

"You mean some of my art?"

"Perhaps…" the pastor says.

"I'm not good enough for that! Not by a long shot."

"How do you know if you have never tried?" Father Bill says.

Jack stops. The pastor did have a point, Jack had only ever sold his art for 10 cents, which always what he thought it was all it was worth. He'd never tried to make anything so it could be exhibited or even sold for a substantial amount of money. He never took the risk or even thought about it and here was the man who tried to make every day count.

"Do you think I could borrow some of the leftover supplies?" Jack asks.

Father Bill smiles and Jack smiles back before the pastor goes back inside.

Jack stands up, stomps out his cigarette and looks to where the cab disappeared down the street. He is suddenly filled with hope, something that had been lacking in his life recently. He looks at the sun as it sets behind the city as the nightlife began to awaken.

"I will find you, Rose. I promise" he whispers.


	37. Chapter 36: Dawn of a New Day

Chapter 36: Dawn of a New Day

"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion" Wendy reads from Jane Austen's book _Pride and Prejudice_.

"That was great Wendy," Rose says, who re-adjusts the candle, which is slowly dying out.

Wendy yawns and so does Rose.

"I think we should call it a night," Rose says.

"I think so too, Miss Rose."

"What have I told you, Wendy?"

"Sorry, Rose."

"That's better," Rose smiles and then stretches out. "You have really made some great progress Wendy, in reading and writing,"

"Thank you, Rose,"

"It was my pleasure Wendy, helping you brings me a lot of joy."

"Really?"

"Yes and you are helping me be a good housewife too. You are my friend Wendy…"

The maid leans over and hugs Rose.

"Thank you Rose, and you are mine too. I've never had many friends before now, but you are the kindest and the nicest."

"Thank you, Wendy," Rose says before she begins cleaning up the papers and pencils, putting them back under her bed.

"I better get downstairs before anyone suspects anything," Wendy says.

"We have been getting away with it for weeks Wendy, I think we'll be okay," Rose smiles.

Wendy gets up to leave

"Rose?" Wendy asks.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to ask you this and whatever you may say I will believe you…Are you with child?"

The papers go falling to the floor and Rose freezes in place.

"W-Why do you ask?"

"I don't really know; it is just the little things that I've noticed. Mostly the sickness and the eating, but also I couldn't help but overhear a conversation between your mother and yourself about your wedding dress not fitting properly…most of those things usually indicate a child…"

Rose swallows and tears up.

"Y-you won't tell anyone will you?"

"So it is true?"

"Yes… it is"

Wendy tries to give a comforting smile. "I will not tell anyone, as long as you want me to… Is it okay if I ask who's it is? Is it Mr. Hockley's"

"No, not at all… You do know that we were on the _Titanic_?"

"Yes miss, it was such a tragedy. I cried when I heard about it…"

"Well, Mr. Hockley was not the only man I was…connected to on the ship…"

Rose spends the next hour or so telling Wendy all about her, Jack and the Titanic. She cries through some of it, the wound still very fresh in her heart and she had been trying to forget it for the sake of her child and herself. She describes her attempted suicide, Jack's dinner up in first class, the party, Emma and Peter's wedding, their night and of course…the sinking. Wendy listens with wide eyes which produce tears by the end. She cannot believe how miserable Rose was in her life. Wendy had always assumed that life in first-class was amazing, never having to worry about money, having a full education and basically having everything you ever wanted to be served to you on a silver platter. But this was not the case as poor her poor mistress wasn't allowed to do anything, but sit around and look pretty and she was being forced into a loveless marriage, one that was going to be abusive and terrified her. To Wendy, first class sounded like a prison… not like life in service was any better, but at least Wendy earned her own money and most of the time, was allowed to have her own opinions. But now her mistress lost the man she loved and is now back where she started, carrying his child and without any sort of plan.

When Rose finishes, Wendy offers a handkerchief and a consoling hug.

"I'm so sorry Rose…I had no idea…"

"I-It's alright Wendy, but I feel better now that you know the truth. I've been carrying this weight for awhile now, b-but can I trust you to keep this a secret?"

"Yes Miss, of course, I will. But… if you don't mind me asking, why are you back where all this…misery started for you?"

"I didn't have a choice, Cal found me on the rescue ship and I was too weak to fight or hide. And ever since then, I've been under constant watch."

"So what are you going to do now? You are pregnant with another man's child and about to be married. I'm sure if Mr. Hockley found out he would force you to…get rid of the child."

"That's why I ran away from the doctor's angry, he wanted to terminate the pregnancy,"

"Oh, my…Miss…if I had known…"

"You didn't know Wendy and that's okay, but now that you do, I need your help to escape,"

"How Miss?"

"You've already helped a great deal. Since I plan to run away soon that's why I've been asking you to teach me how to cook and clean, so I can learn to live on my own. You can help by accompanying me to different pawn shops so I can sell my jewelry for money. As long as I am with someone, my mother will not question it."

"Alright," Wendy says reluctantly. "Anything else?"

"Just be supportive," Rose says quietly. She hugs Wendy again. "This is scary for me, but I have to do this for my child and for Jack."

Wendy nods and looks out the slightly ajar drapes. The sun is beginning to rise, casting a light violet and pink glow against the black starlit sky. The beauty is breathtaking, Wendy had seen many sunrises before, growing up on a farm, but this one seemed different. Maybe a bit more special, sharing it with her friend and seeing the rising sun spread its light across Philadelphia, illuminating the buildings. And yet, there was more to it. Wendy couldn't quite find the words to describe it, perhaps it meant something more, like a dawn of new day or the discovery of something new and fantastic. Wendy certainly had discovered a lot in the past few hours and the sunrise gave hope, endless possibilities, like what Miss Rose wanted to do in her life. Her mind is so full of deep and meaningful thoughts that only the sound of Rose snuffing out the candle brings her back to reality. The fantasy was over and she had to go back to work.

"I'd better go before someone suspects anything," Wendy says.

"I'm sorry I kept you all night Wendy,"

"It's quite alright Rose, I was happy to be here for you and you won't have to worry, your secrets are safe with me."

"Thank you, Wendy, I can't tell you how much that means to me."

The maid gives her mistress another hopeful smile before quietly opening the door. She suddenly remembers something.

"I'm sorry you lost the man you loved…"

Rose looks at Wendy with eyes filled with tears and this time she knew it wasn't from the hormones. No one had ever offered her condolences for the loss of Jack, someone she cared about someone she loved, even after only three days. The hole in her heart was quite big, but the maid giving her comfort and sympathy helped her heal a little bit more. She felt happy...

As Wendy walks down the empty, still quite a dark hallway, the stanzas of a poem begin to form in her mind.

…

The trips to the pawn shops were successful. Rose claimed more than thousand dollars and a little extra. Wendy stood by her the entire time never saying a word. Rose did use some of Cal's money to buy some practical, maternity dresses for herself, knowing that she would need them soon and also make her mother believe that she was simply shopping. Rose stored all her money in a leather purse and kept the purse under her bed along with her paintings and other supplies for her escape. Wendy kept herself busy, writing some poems in her free time. She did have a concern at one point that if she knew that her mistress was going to run away, she might lose her job. However, when she began writing her poetry, Wendy wondered if she could start publishing some of her poems for money.

Rose was expecting Molly to call her back about the paintings, but as the dinner drew near, she became concerned. Rose tried calling Molly at her home, but the maid told her that there was a family emergency, one of Molly's cousins had a heart attack and passed away so she would be out of town until just before the dinner. Rose was referred to the fundraising council and it was organized that Rose should come to New York to deliver the paintings and stay for the dinner.

Rose most certainly wanted to attend, but she was afraid her mother would not let her and what if Cal came along, she'd be trapped for good and would certainly not have a good time. Regardless, the paintings had to get there somehow and she would do it. Rose found where her mother had hidden her paintings, down in the cellar, under a sheet of the tarp as if covering them would make them disappear. She brings them upstairs and begins packing for the trip.

Ruth knocks on the door.

"Rose?"

"Come in Mother," Rose says as she looks through her closet for a suitable dress for the dinner.

"What is going on here?"

"I'm packing for New York."

"NEW YORK!" Ruth practically yells.

"Yes, I'm going to attend Molly's dinner and put the paintings in the auction."

"Rose you are not going! And that is final"

"Please Mother, I'm not asking for your permission. I'm also not asking you to come along, the paintings need to get there somehow and they cannot be shipped in the mail. They are too delicate"

"Rose, a young, engaged woman cannot simply go gallivanting to New York for something as silly as a dinner."

"Mother it is a church dinner, nothing bad is going to happen. Plus, I am also going to New York to keep Molly company, she just lost one of her cousins. She needs support right now to get through her grieving."

Ruth chews her tongue hard. Rose's behaviour was so much better now that a dinner like this could ruin it and yet… Ruth knew that once Rose made up her mind, it would never change.

"Rose please, the wedding is just a month away and you expect…"

"It is only for three days' mother and I need a break from all the planning anyways. I also haven't been away from the house for awhile" Rose adds, she looks a dark blue dress with sparkles all over it and a silver collar.

"You can't just go alone!" Ruth protests.

"I'm not going alone, Wendy's coming with me," Rose says to reassure her mother. Rose is praying that she has been behaving like a proper lady that her mother will finally give her the freedom she needs. Her plans to escape were not too far away, but her mother and Cal still had a tight grip on her.

Ruth groans and taps her foot. She sighs, "Alright, you can go, but I expect you to bring the money home and you won't stay too late. Only one glass of wine and if there is any dancing, I want you to stay out of it."

Rose felt great relief. She and Wendy would go to the dinner. Ruth's excuse was to be able to immediately collect the money from the paintings she was donating, but Rose simply wanted to be a part of the world again, be with free thinking people who supported the rights of all women. After all, she would be leaving soon and would need a job to support herself.

"I promise mother, no shenanigans," Rose says in an amused tone. She goes behind her screen and changes into the blue dress. It is a bit tight around the waist as expected. Rose knew should couldn't do it up herself.

"Mother, can you zip up the back?" Rose asks.

Ruth does so. "Really Rose, you should be watching what you eat, first your wedding dress now this… You're going to turn into a blimp if you don't watch yourself." Rose rolls her eyes as her mother continues. "This is yet another reason on why I do not think this dinner is a good idea. I think you should get a tighter corset…"

"No!" Rose says quickly. "I mean, I'll be very careful from now on, at the dinner, I'll only eat salad. I promise" This, of course, would be a lie; Rose couldn't help that she was eating for two now. Ever since Wendy found out the pregnancy, the maid has slipped Rose some extra food during their reading sessions to make sure the pregnant woman was satisfied.

Ruth bit her lip and then chews her tongue again. Rose stands in front of the mirror, turning herself left and right. At a certain angle and in certain lighting, she didn't look pregnant, it was just like she had a big lunch, but there would soon be a bump, something she knew she could not hide for very much longer. Rose knew the alterations on her wedding dress would not help as Jack's child grew inside her.

"How do I look mother?" Rose asks.

Ruth tilts her head, also noticing her daughter's larger curves, but she shook herself back to reality.

"Like a real lady," Ruth says with a small smile.

Rose was hoping for something a little more flattering from her mother, but that would be the best she would probably get. Rose fishes out the diamond necklace that Cal recently gave her and adds it as well as the diamond heirloom barrette, one of the few things she didn't sell since it belonged to her great grandmother. She examines herself in the vanity mirror. She looks like a doll, dressed in shiny things and again she felt out of place, but it was all for the sake of her child. She begins fiddling with her hair.

"I think you should put your hair up," Ruth says, coming over and basically takes over the styling of her daughter's hair.

Rose wants to roll her eyes but restrains herself. She lets her mother do what she wants and tolerate it, just like she had been doing all her life.

When Ruth finishes, she steps back to examine her beautiful daughter. She looked so perfect and elegant, Ruth knew that her daughter inherited her fair looks, including the rare, flowing red locks, everything except for the eyes which were her husband's. If only her daughter had inherited her mother's mannerisms earlier, then they could've saved themselves many an argument. Her behaviour had improved, but not enough. She still insisted on being friends with the maid and was interested in housekeeping. This made Ruth wary and slightly nervous. She began to wonder what Rose did behind closed doors.

Ruth swallows hard and smiles.

"Excuse me, darling," she says and she leaves her daughter in peace.

Rose removes her dress and puts the accessories away. She packs the dress in a small bag as well as the money and other necessities for the trip. She felt some excitement and anticipation of being free of her mother's influence, even if it was only for a few nights. She pulls on her nightgown and undoes her hair. She gives a more genuine smile and she feels a warmth inside her, it wasn't anger, but happiness, being herself.

Ruth makes her way down the stairs, passing Wendy, who has arms full of clean laundry. Ruth eyes the maid but continues on her way. Why Rose insisted on being friends with the maid is beyond her, but at least her daughter was under supervision? Ruth continues on her journey, picks up the phone in the back hall and turns the dial.

"Hello?" a voice on the other end answers.

"Mr. Hockley? I need you to take your business to New York next week…"


	38. Chapter 37: The Will of Bill

Chapter 37: The Will of Bill

 _Rights go to Will Rogers for the quotation._

Jack sighs, cleaning up the tarps from the day's work, wiping sweat from his brow. It's been a long day. The church will be done in the next two days or so and Jack is reluctant to leave. He feels relatively comfortable now since he's had a steady job with good payment for awhile now. The workers have become almost like his friends and Father Bill is giving him guidance and advice, almost like a father figure. He's also been doing what he loves the most, being able to express his talents.

He lays back in one of the pews, hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling. The scenes from the Bible look like they are coming to life. Jack, of course, doesn't really know the stories, but he likes the way each of the panels came out. All that was left to do what re-paint the gold borders and touch up some of the saints' statues. Then everything would be done and they would be paid their last bit of money.

Jack begins to wonder if Fabrizio and Tommy might be up in heaven and what they might be doing. He smiles, visualizing Tommy with a halo under his bowler hat and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He wonders if his Irish friend would be sharing a drink with Saint Peter or something. He pictures Fabrizio, playing a tune, most likely to his love Helga, the girl whom he met on the ship. He'd sing with all the choirs of angels to profess his love for her. Jack tries to picture his best friend in a white flowing robe, but can't. He chuckles to himself at the idea. He thinks of Emma, she would be a beautiful angel, her bright blue eyes the colour of the sky and her smile would bring the sunshine anywhere she went. He imagines her painting the sunsets as they set over the horizon and simply loving spending the time with her parents. He sees his own parents, smiling down on him, keeping him safe. His mother baking treats for all the saints and his father cracking a few jokes to make the angels smile.

"I miss you guys," Jack whispers and goes to his room.

He sits on the cot he has and contemplates what to do next. He's scared, of course, he doesn't know what to do next. He could try to find Rose again, but that worked out so well the first time! He knew he had to find another job, he wishes to have standards for what kind of profession he wants, but he knows his options are limited. He knew Father Bill would allow him to stay here, but it wouldn't feel right. He no longer worked for the church, and Jack had only been lucky that Father Bill had been so generous. He had enough from the church job to support himself, may get an apartment, but it would only last so long.

Suddenly, he remembers he will hopefully have a lot more in a few days. He looks at the pieces he's going to donate, leaning against the wall by the door. He got them registered with Molly's committee. He considered himself lucky that he got his pieces in at all, he heard another person was donating pieces from Picasso and Monet. I guess they needed a few more art pieces. He had shown some of the ladies his paintings and they were absolutely blown away by the detail and passion. They seemed so realistic to them. They accepted the paintings right on the spot. He would have to deliver them on the day of the dinner.

Jack was proud of himself. He had painted three pieces, all of them came from his own imagination and talent. He drew a little girl holding a small bouquet of flowers near a pond. There were small animals and plant life and he worked extra hard to get the reflection right. The picture was based on Cora, his best girl on Titanic, whom he also missed. The girl had a lot of spunk and who's smile could light up the room. The second piece was a small farmstead, loosely based on a small farm near his home in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. A small red barn in the distance with a big green field and big wooden fence that he used to climb over to visit the neighbour. There was a cow in the far left corner and a sharp blue sky with white clouds above the scenic painting.

However, his absolute favourite is the last one he painted, one of Rose. He used emerald green paint to capture her eyes and a bright red to paint her lips and curls. He made the curls almost like they were blowing in the breeze, spreading out across the canvas. It was slightly more abstract, leaving out skin colour and simply using the blank white canvas as her skin, creating a flawless texture. This was how he saw Rose, every single day and how she would always be, frozen in time…in his heart.

There is a knock at the door.

"Come in," Jack calls.

Father Bill comes into the room.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Jack asks politely.

"I was wondering if you are prepared for the dinner next week?"

"Not really Father, I mean the paintings are done, but I don't exactly have good clothes."

"You can borrow my suit if you'd like," the pastor offers.

Jack's jaw drops in shock. He never expected the pastor to have anything besides his robes and the black shirt and white collared shirts. He learned that priests take a vow of poverty and never have fancy things of any kind to show their compassion and devotion to the Lord.

"You have a suit?"

Father Bill smiles. "You think I do not?"

"I-I just expected…"

"I am not walking around in a loincloth all the time." He jokes. "I have two suits for parish dinners or other special occasions, you are welcome to borrow one of them."

"Really?" Jack says.

"Yes, of course, I will be attending too, but will not be bidding on anything and am simply there for sponsor support."

"Right," Jack nods.

The pastor takes Jack back in his own room and opens the closet. Father Bill slides through the multitude of coloured robes and brings out a simple black suit. There is also a gray one. The priest hands the black one to Jack.

"All you need son is a nice tie and you're ready to go,"

Jack looks at Father Bill and takes the suit.

"I don't know what to say…" Jack says. "You've shown me nothing but kindness, even though I was a total stranger, lost and homeless. Most people would've ignored me or called the police. You are definitely not like 'most people'"

" _A stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet,"_ the pastor smiles. "I am just like anyone else son. I believe that the will of God brought you to this church, it happened for a very good reason. This place allowed you to heal and to express yourself in a way that you were unable to do before. You were given the respect and support you needed to grow and start yourself on a new path."

Jack smiles back, the will of God thing might be a bit far-fetched, but Father Bill was right. He had found the comfort and respect he needed to move past the disaster and start again. He still felt that his stay at the church had only given him false hope in finding the one he loved, but he had re-discovered his talents and was about to sell his very own paintings. Jack guessed that the Lord had helped him, to a point.

Jack takes the suit to his room and tries it on. It's a little loose around the collar, but otherwise the perfect fit. He then goes to find a mirror. When he looks at himself, he looks okay, but he still felt like the penniless artist he's always been. He has a flashback to when Molly lent him her son's suit for the first-class dinner. He was nervous then and he was nervous now, at least, this time, he wouldn't have to worry about Cal or Rose's snobbish mother interrogating him. He knew people of all classes would be there and he could be another face in the crowd.

Jack hangs the suit up and gets ready for bed. He takes one last look at his painting of Rose before he goes to sleep.

 _I'll find you…I hope…_


	39. Chapter 38: On The Town

Chapter 38: On the Town

The train came to a complete stop at the station, steam is released into the morning air.

Rose stands up. "This is it, Wendy. This is our stop,"

The maid follows her mistress down the stairs and onto the platform, feeling very excited. She had never been to New York before, or much of anywhere before. She helps Rose with her bags as Rose flags a taxi down in the street. The platform is filled with people, many of them businessmen trying to get to work on time. Wendy's eyes go upwards on the street when she sees how massive the buildings were. She'd never seen such big buildings in all her life, she wonders if they reached heaven.

The taxi on the street honks, waking Wendy up from her dream. She puts the bags in the trunk of the cab and climbs into the car next to Rose. Rose gives the address to the driver and the cab pulls away into the city streets. Wendy can't help but stare at the city life as it zooms by. Everything around her is fascinating and so amazing. Rose was happy to see the big city again too, despite the fact that this is where the _Carpathia_ docked to let off the survivors. Big cities always excited her, she had considered coming here once she ran away from home.

The two women check into their hotel and unpack. They get one of the top floor rooms, where you could see what felt like the entire city. Wendy keeps staring out the window, the view is giving her inspiration for some new poems about urban life.

"It's all so beautiful!" Wendy sighs in amazement.

"It really is, I've always loved New York City, it is the place where your dreams can come true and anything can happen."

"What should we do first Rose?" Wendy asks.

"I'd like to show you some of the sights. We have tickets to see a Broadway show tonight, so we have lots of time."

"B-But Miss, I don't have any dresses that would be appropriate for the theater."

"Then we should go shopping for one," Rose says with a wink. "Shopping on Sacks Fifth Avenue!"

"You'd really take me to the theater?" Wendy asks.

"Wendy, on this trip, think of me as your friend, not your boss," Rose smiles.

"Okay," the maid smiles.

The two women begin walking along the streets until they came to Fifth Avenue.

"Wow!" Wendy says in awe, looking into the shop windows, admiring all the glamourous dresses.

"Which shop would you like to stop in first?" Rose asks.

"But Miss how can you afford anything here?"

Rose holds out a purse full of money. "Mr. Hockley was able to give us a very generous loan," she smirks with a wink.

The two ladies go into several of the stores, trying on many different dresses. Wendy feels so dizzy like it was almost a dream. She feels nervous that the others in the shops would judge her, clearly not being from the same class. However, Rose being there gave her reassurance that she wouldn't be judged. She feels like a princess, trying on all the different kinds of dresses, twirling and giggling like a little girl. Both buy several dresses each. Wendy couldn't believe her good fortune; these dresses would be the prettiest things she'd ever owned.

Afterward, both girls walk down Fifth Avenue and stop by _Tiffany's_ , the diamond and jewelry store. Wendy's eyes light up looking at all the glittering stones.

"I've never seen such beautiful treasures!" Wendy exclaims.

"They are really pretty, I bet Cal has a membership here or something for all the diamonds he's bought me," Rose mutters.

Next, the women go down to Central Park to walk around and see the beautiful natural beauty. Wendy was getting, even more, the inspiration for her poems, seeing the budding trees and flowers, as well as the children running around, flying kites and sailing little boats.

"Nothing beats the natural beauty of Mother Nature," Wendy sighs.

"That's for sure," Rose says.

They then go to a café for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rose loves looking at all the fantastic exhibits, all the different pieces of art. She sighs to herself, trying not to tear up. She is wondering if this should have been something she and Jack would've done together. They both had a love of the arts and Rose hoped that one day Jack's art would've been put in a museum, he had such talent.

That night, Wendy and Rose go to see the Broadway show that night, courtesy of Cal's money. As they wait to see the show, Rose stares at a poster of the young leading actress, stars in her eyes.

"Someday that'll be me!" Rose says.

"You want to be an actress Miss?" Wendy asks, stunned by this revelation.

"Either in the theater or a moving picture actress, it's so glamourous and just the thrill of being famous and performing has made it my dream since I was little,"

"Maybe when you…um…leave home you can become an actress," Wendy suggests.

"Maybe, but not until I have this baby of course," Rose whispers.

The two women enjoy the show. It was _A Doll's House_ by Henrik Ibsen, Rose could especially relate to the character of Nora, being forced into a life she did not want and by the end rather be a prostitute on the streets than be trapped in her marriage. Rose knew she wouldn't be exactly like Nora; she'd have some money, enough to keep her off the streets, but the uncertainty of what will happen next at the end of the production made her nervous. She walks home with Wendy, trying to calm herself just enough to go to sleep.

…

The following day, the women sail out to the Statue of Liberty, the same one that had greeted Rose back on the _Carpathia_. She still has a heavy heart now, much like before, being here without Jack, but Wendy is so excited that Rose tries to remain positive for her maid's sake.

Later on, they go to deliver the paintings to the banquet hall for the event. The place is very large and quite beautiful for the dinner. There are many ladies, as well as men hard at work to set the place up for tomorrow night. The tables had been set up and tablecloths overtop, all the china and glasses were set and there was podium on the stage for the keynote speaker and the band.

A woman with gray hair greets them.

"Welcome," she says.

"Hello," Rose says. "I'm here to drop off my donated paintings for the auction."

"Name please."

"Rose DeWitt Bukater."

"Ah yes, Mrs. Brown told me you would be donating a few paintings. We certainly have some great art this year. Three paintings are being donated by an amateur artist, but a few more recognizable pieces are greatly appreciated."

As Rose signs a few things she asks the woman.

"How is Mrs. Brown?"

"She's alright, the shock of her cousin's heart attack put her under a lot of stress, but she's a strong woman. She is busy today, but she will definitely be attending tomorrow."

"That's good to hear," Rose says. She also pulls out the money to buy tickets.

"Thank you, Miss, we will see you tomorrow," the woman smiles.

Rose puts the tickets in her purse.

"Where would you like to go next Wendy?" Rose asks.

"I was hoping to stop by that library with the stone lions in front of it."

"Sure thing," Rose says, knowing that Wendy wanted to try reading something with her new reading skills.

Wendy couldn't believe how massive the library was.

"There must be thousands of books here!" Wendy shouts.

"SHHHHHH," is the response from Rose and several other people around them. "This is a library; it's supposed to be quiet," Rose explains in whispers.

"Oh, sorry," Wendy whispers.

Rose follows Wendy as she looks through the shelves of books, her eyes wide in excitement. She looks like a child in a candy shop as she examines all the titles, clearly very proud that she can now read them. She picks several off some shelves and then finds a leather chair to sit in. Rose sits in another and simply watches the maid, so happy that she had made a difference in her friend's life. She lays back to take the pressure off her feet. She still didn't look pregnant, but she certainly felt like it. She leans back and closes her eyes for what felt like hours.

Eventually, Wendy leans over to wake her.

"One day, my books will be in here," the maid whispers.

Rose smiles. She wanted to be an actress and Wendy wanted to be an author. Dreams that they wanted to pursue if they weren't trapped in their perspective worlds.

When it starts to get dark, Rose suggests they go get something to eat.

Wendy sighs. "I really want to take this book home," she says.

"You can," Rose says. "That's what a library is for."

"Really?" Wendy asks. "I thought it was just a fancy word for a building full of books."

The two girls snicker until someone nearby hushes them.

Wendy borrows two books for one night, since after the dinner, they would be going home to Philadelphia. The two women grab something to eat and then travel to Times Square, just as it was getting dark. They watch the lights come on and all the people rushing past them in no particular directions. Both of their eyes are filled with wonder and awe at the beauty of the nightlife in the city.

…

The next day is quieter and soon Rose begins to prepare for the dinner.

"Come on Wendy," Rose says. "You're my plus one tonight."

"Just let me finish this chapter," Wendy says, her nose in a book.

There is a knock at their hotel door.

"I'll get it!" Rose calls.

She opens the door.

"CAL!" Rose shrieks. She takes a few steps back in shock, her hands shaking from surprise and fear. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I had some business in New York this week and I heard you were in town…"

"Who told you about that?" Rose snaps angrily.

"Your mother, of course, she was concerned about you being in the big city all by yourself. Since I was in town, she decided to let me know about it so I could accompany you to this dinner."

Rose didn't buy it, not for a second. Her mother tipped off Cal to make sure someone kept an eye on her. Her anger began boiling to the surface, she wanted to scream and yell at Cal, but she might make him mad. She was worried he might hurt her or her child.

"You don't have to be so angry," Cal says.

"I-I'm sorry, y-you just surprised me, showing up like this,"

"I thought I'd surprise you and take you to this dinner that Margret Brown is hosting,"

"But…" Rose stammers. "I'm taking Wendy."

Cal frowns, his face goes a shade of red, most likely from embarrassment. He knew full well that Rose would pull something like this, inviting a lowly maid to such a grand event. He knew that the maid was untrustworthy to make sure that Rose stayed out of trouble, so it was up to him to do so.

"I'm sure…um…uh,"

"Wendy."

"Wendy. I'm sure Wendy wouldn't mind if a man and his fiancée had a night to themselves. After all, it has been awhile since we've been together."

"For good reason," Rose mutters under her breath. Cal glares at her.

Wendy stood at attention realizing Mr. Hockley was present, dropping her book on the bed and trying to look professional.

"You wouldn't mind would you Wendy?" Cal says in such a tone that he is daring her to say no.

"N-Not at all s-sir!"

"Good," Cal says. "Besides, I see you have some reading to do. Not that reading would be very valuable to a woman."

Rose's hands clench into fists when he says that. Like always, Cal saw women as possessions, nothing more. They weren't valuable to him and were simply put this earth to serve men and look pretty. She can't even believe that he's even coming to this dinner with such narrow-minded views.

Cal clears his throat. "Now I'll allow you to get dressed. I will meet you in the lobby."

"Alright," Rose says before shutting the door.

When she shuts the door she begins to cry. Wendy comes over to comfort her mistress.

"It's alright Rose… It's alright."

Rose curls up into a ball.

"I can't escape it, Wendy, I can't escape this life!" Rose cries.

"You can and you will!" Wendy says with confidence.

"How do you know?" Rose weeps.

"Because you are so strong and different. I've worked in other houses and the women of your class that I served, could never survive on their own, but you can. You treat everyone as equals and you've learned to care for yourself. You will escape and I will be waving a white handkerchief, happy to see you free. Tonight should be no different, you must be strong for yourself and your child. You survived the _Titanic_ for goodness sakes, you can survive another dinner with Mr. Hockley. It will only be for a few hours. I know you can do it, Miss!"

Rose looks up at Wendy, so happy to have a friend that she could confide in and be her moral support. She hugs the maid again.

"Thank you…" Rose says.

"You're welcome, now let's get you dressed."


	40. Chapter 39: A Night to Remember

Chapter 39: A Night to Remember

"Peter, please hurry up, we're going to be late!" Emma calls from the kitchen. She's warming milk on the kettle for Sybil. Holly has volunteered to care for Sybil while Emma and Peter went to this dinner. Holly brought Thomas along and he was doing a puzzle on the floor of the living room.

Holly comes in with Sybil.

"You look amazing!" Holly says, complementing Emma's dress.

"Thank you," Emma says, taking the kettle off the stove. She gives Holly a little twirl. Emma is dressed in a lovely purple gown, it was long, but it gave her plenty of room to move. The dress was embroidered with tiny black beads all around the skirt, which seemed to dance whenever Emma twirled. The dress was short sleeved, with a more open neckline, where Emma had placed one of her mother's necklaces to pull the outfit together. Emma's hair was done up in a bun. Sybil screeches in delight.

"You like it too huh?" Emma smiles, scooping up her sister. She lifts Sybil above her head and kisses her.

"So this dinner, you're going to…is it a charity event?" Holly asks.

"Kind of, it's mostly to raise awareness on Women's Rights and some of the proceeds are going to _Titanic_ victims,"

"Oh, and who's running it?"

"Molly Brown, she was on the _Titanic_. She's also an advocate for Women's Rights," Emma answers as she pours the warm milk into the bottle.

"Oh, I've heard of her! The papers were calling her the "Unsinkable Molly Brown" because she insisted on women taking turns at the oars and she even stood up to an officer."

"That is one brave woman," Emma nods. She sits at the table and puts the bottle in Sybil's mouth.

"How late do you think it'll go?" Holly asks.

"Hard to say, but there will be dancing, so I'd say pretty late,"

"Well, you two should have a night out together."

Emma nods. The last time they had a night out was on the _Titanic_ when life was a little bit simpler and times were a little bit happier. She does her best not to tear up. She pulls Sybil onto her shoulder to burp her.

Holly looks at Emma with a tearful smile. "I can't tell you how happy we are that you're alive Emma…" she says. "When Peter though he lost you, he wasn't the same boy I grew up with. It felt like when you passed away, so did Peter."

Emma smiles at Holly. "Well, I'm back and so is he, forever and always,"

"I hope this night out will help him come back fully."

"Who says I ever left?" Peter says with a smile.

Emma gives Sybil to Holly and wraps her arms around him.

"We're both back and that's what matters," Emma gushes.

Peter is dressed in a fine black suit with a blue tie. His leg had recovered quite a lot, but he still has a bit of limp in his step.

"You ready to go?" Peter asks.

"Are you sure you'll be okay without your crutch?" Emma asks in concern.

"I'll be fine, now let's have a good night," Peter says, heading for the door.

"Bring Cinderella back at a reasonable hour Prince Charming," Holly jokes. She lifts Sybil's hand to wave at them.

"Bye Uncle Peeta, Bye Aunt Emma!" Thomas calls.

"Bye, have a good night." The couple calls back before climbing into the car.

…

"This way Sweetpea," Cal says, directing her down the hall.

"I was here the other day Caledon, I know my way," Rose mumbles angrily.

Cal squeezes her shoulder hard as a warning. "This wasn't my idea, but so long as we are in the public eye, let's try to pretend that we love each other."

Rose tries not to shudder as they enter the well-lit hall. It has been decorated with streamers and flowers. The tables are each set with white table cloths, wine glasses and vases of bright daffodils in the center. The auction items are lined along the back wall and the stage is set up with the speaker's podium and the equipment for the band. Servers were coming around with clear glasses of wine. Cal took one for himself and downed the works immediately. Rose took one but pretended to drink it. She felt out of place in this dinner, like she didn't belong and yet she had grown up with fancy dinners like this. There were several people she recognized from similar society parties. Cal manages to make small talk with them and Rose simply nods along. Once again she felt like she was in a room, screaming at the top of her lungs and no one could hear her.

Rose slips away to browse through the auction table to see what was being bid on. A luxury cruise trip for two, a certificate for a Turkish spa day, a full silver tea set, antique vases, her paintings and ones that she assumes are from the amateur artist. Rose takes a close look at them, one of them reminds her of little Cora, with the bright eyes and lively curls holding a bouquet of flowers, set against a nature scene. The other was a simply farmland scene. The final one took her by surprise, a woman that looked so much like her it was uncanny; from the emerald green eyes to fiery red hair in perfect ringlets and a rather demure facial expression.

 _How could it…? Could it really be me? That's impossible!_

"There you are Sweetpea," Cal says, grabbing her arm, scaring her half to death. "I would like to introduce you to some friends from the office, Mr. Jacob Sims and his wife Charlotte, as well as Cecil Jones and his wife, Mary."

Rose forces a smile onto her face. The ladies begin congratulating Rose and Cal on their engagement and how they hoped the wedding planning was going well. Rose did her best to answer any of the women's questions and cling to Cal's arm to make it seem like they were in love.

…

Jack tugs at his tie as he enters the hall. He tries not to feel nervous, this wasn't like the first class dinner on _Titanic_ , but his stomach was turning anyways. Father Bill went in ahead of Jack and began to mingle with the different people, easy enough for a pastor, but for Jack, it was more difficult. He grabs himself some wine and begins searching for Molly. He wanted to finish the conversation about where Rose was before she was called away.

"You lost stranger?" a voice says behind him.

He turns to see a young blonde woman with relatively short hair walking towards him. Her eyes are a dark shade of brown and she's dressed in a slim dress decorated with sequins splattered all over. She looks Jack over with almost a hunger, but also curiosity. Her face was youthful, almost angelic, with her dark red lips making her entire face pop.

"I'm sorry?" Jack asks in confusion.

"You, you lost?" she says again.

"I-I don't think so,"

The girl grins. "What I mean is, do you feel lost in a crowd like this?"

Jack swallows. "Do I stand out that much?"

"Like a red balloon in the sky," she says.

Jack re-adjusts his tie.

"I'm just kidding," the girl smiles, giving a soft giggle. "I've been going to dinners like these since I was a kid, so I know when someone is trying to fit in." The girl downs another glass of wine and grabs another. "I can't stand parties like these, they're so boring, if it wasn't for the keynote speaker, I'd be more hammered than I already am."

Jack steps back as the woman gets closer, she does have a bit of sway in her step, indicating intoxication and she needs to hold onto his shoulder to stand still.

"Do you…do you know the speaker?" Jack asks, trying to fill the awkward admittance that the girl was drunk.

"Know her? She's my mother." The girl holds out her hand. "My name is Daisy, Daisy Baker, my mom is Edna Baker, the one speaking tonight. Which is why I becoming as drunk as possible," Daisy says, finishing her next glass. "You going to drink that?" she asks, eyeing his glass. Jack pulls his cup away from her and puts it on a server's tray.

"Why?" Jack asks.

"Because!" Daisy says loudly. "Because no one is going to take her seriously. The world is too engrained in Victorian society to ever think that women deserve to be equal. As far as they want, keep treating women like shit!"

Several people eye them after Daisy's loud proclamation. Jack tries to guide her into a nearby corner to prevent her from embarrassing herself further or bumping into other people.

"All these rich assholes care about is the stuff at the auction and the free booze, Fancy stuff they don't give a shit about the cause!"

"I'm sure that's not true," Jack protests, sweating a bit. He had handled drunk women before, mostly prostitutes, but it was often in an alleyway or somewhere a little more private. "I'm sure some people care about the cause, I certainly do."

"That's because you're from the lower classes, your mind is more open than any of these other assholes. They've got more money than they know what to do with so they flaunt and want the world to stay the same so they stay on top. Meanwhile, everyone else puts their nose in the dirt to make this world go round!" Daisy slurs a bit.

Jack had to admit, that despite how intoxicated Daisy was, she had a point. It was one of the many reasons Jack resented the upper class, but he knew not everyone was like that, Rose certainly wasn't.

"You may be right, but that's what these speeches are for, to help change people's minds."

"Bullshit!" Daisy cries loud enough for the entire hall to hear. "Just you watch, half the men will go outside for cigars and the women will excuse themselves to the powder room. You'll see!"

"Daisy!" a woman with thick gold glasses and with dark brown eyes come up to them. She had her hair pulled up into a bun and a formal dress on. She holds pieces of paper with her and she walks with some pride. Jack immediately realizes that this is Edna Baker, the keynote speaker.

"Daisy Baker, where have you been? You're supposed to be with your father."

"I'm sorry Mummy, but there was no booze where Daddy was sitting!"

"Daisy please, every time I do something like this, you end up leaning dangerously."

"It numbs the fact that you will be booed off the stage and the audience will throw rotten tomatoes at us,"

"You're exaggerating, that only ever happened once now go towards your father. People will be sitting soon."

Daisy hobbles along grabs a server and plants a big kiss on his mouth and continues her was towards the stage.

Edna turns to Jack. "Thank you for bringing her over here. I don't know what I'm going to do with her. Ever since I started speaking publicly, she's been drinking like there's no tomorrow. It's an embarrassment to the family."

Jack simply nods as they both watch Daisy stumble to the stage.

"I don't entirely blame her," Edna continues. "This is a difficult profession to do, not many people in this day and age take you seriously and all the time spent being criticized, I guess she drinks to take the edge off of humiliation."

Jack looks at Edna.

"But what kind of example would I be if I just gave up after every loud jeer or insult. I'd be just like any other woman these days (figuratively speaking that is), lay back and let the men run the world. Keep in mind, it was the Virgin Mary who brought Jesus into the world."

"That's very inspiring," Jack says, trying to calm the anxious woman down a bit. "If it makes you feel any better, I support you and your cause, it is a very honourable thing to do and the fact that you never give up is very motivating."

"Thank you, son," Edna says with a smile. "I'm glad you're of the modern age."

"I've seen what this world does to women, treats them like possessions, nothing more and shoves them to the side. It's sad if I'm honest with myself."

Edna grins at Jack. "You could be a keynote speaker yourself son."

"I wish," Jack says with a small smile.

"Anyways, thank you for helping my daughter. You'd better find your seat; dinner will be served soon."

"You're welcome," Jack says. "Break a leg up there."

"Thank you," Edna says before disappearing into the crowd.

…

Emma and Peter are sitting as the salads are served to everyone. The couple had seen a few people from work that they were able to chat up with, but to be honest, the best was yet to come.

Eventually, Molly Brown comes to the podium and the room falls silent.

"Good evening to one and all. I am so very glad that your attendance indicates at least some support for women like us. Or if you are simply here for the shiny things, that's fine too."

There is subtle laughter at Molly's joke.

"I'd first like to thank my almost superhuman committee for being able to pull this off, their love and commitment allowed us to put this event on to raise money for Women's Rights, but also widows and survivors from the _Titanic_. As a survivor myself, I can say that spending hours in that tiny boat in the freezing cold, with little hope of rescue and hearing others around me who were not so fortunate, took it's toll on me, on my very. I know not many of you can relate to the horrific tragedy and sorrow that was felt that night, but I can assure you, it felt like losing you're most precious loved one, a thousand times over. And although I did not lose anyone close to me in the Atlantic, I know many did and this is my way to give love and support to those who need it more than I do. My heart will go on and we shall never forget you. Now can we all please have a moment of silence for all those we lost."

The room is deadly quiet and many people bow their heads in remembrance. Emma reaches over and grabs Peter's hand tightly. The night would haunt them forever and they must remember those who were not as lucky.

Molly clears her throat and continues. "When I got off the boat, I had many people ask me how I survived and I simply said it was because I was unsinkable, in reality, it was because I was unbreakable. Women like us get beaten down on many, many occasions in our lifetime and often, we just stay down. But it is time for us to take our place in this world and get the respect we deserve. Equal pay, equal rights, we should put it to a vote. The world does not revolve around men entirely. In the words of Alice Paul, 'There will never be a new world order until women are a part of it'"

There is a loud applause, mostly from women, but there is scattered applause among the men. Rose wants to stand up to applaud Molly even more, but with Cal watching her like a hawk, it's best to stay put. Jack too is applauding loudly, proud of Molly's words.

"Now will you all please bow your heads as Father Bill of the St. Gabriel Catholic church will lead us in prayer before the main course is served."

Jack looks surprised that Father Bill was leading the prayer, but the pastor gives him a wink before heading up to the podium.

The priest clears his throat.

"O Christ God, bless the food and drink of Thy servants, for holy art Thou, always, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen."

Once the prayer is said the main course, lasagna is served. Emma and Peter smile and chat with the people at their tables.

Meanwhile, Jack across the room remains relatively quiet as Father Bill engages the others in conversation about different gospels. Eventually, the others ask about the beautiful paintings from the unknown artist and Jack admits that they are his. Immediately, everyone begins asking him about how long he'd been an artist and such. He felt more comfortable and more accepted afterward.

If only Rose, on another side of the room was having such a great time. The men around her bantered about the stock market and current business, while the ladies gossiped about the keynote speaker and other pointless rumours. Rose felt awful, Cal had once again trapped her in the world she hated with a burning passion. She does her best to nod along and feign interest, but everything was making her zone out. She wished Wendy had come instead or even trade places with Wendy instead of slowly being suffocated by her mother's society.

Approximately halfway through the meal, Edna Baker comes to the podium to begin her speech. Most of the men around Rose simply continue eating or excuse themselves for a cigar in the adjacent room. Rose wants to put down her cutlery to listen, but the baby is making her hungry so she continues to eat.

Edna Baker's speech is quite inspiring; it is clear to all four of the dinner guests. She cares deeply about her work and has done extensive research on the subject. She talks about the history and treatment of women in education, the workforce and in general. Even now, when women were going to school but never putting their skills to use and how men never saw women as their equals, merely possessions or things to be eyed from a distance. She goes on to list the benefits of having women being able to vote and how the chances of councilmen and leaders' chances of being elected would double by a very large margin. She then lists the many famous women in history from Laura Secord to Harriet Tubman who never gave up and made a name for themselves for acts of heroism and such.

By the end of her speech, Edna Baker is practically red in the face with passion. She pauses and the room breaks into relatively soft applause, scattered in some places. Jack looks at Edna, slightly disappointed that she didn't get a bigger applause, but is sort of used to it based on their discussion earlier.

Rose is very pleased to have listened to Edna's speech, it made her feel empowered and confident, she could make a life for herself and her child, live out her dreams as an actress even. Cal did put a damper on things, muttering to his colleagues that Edna was a crackpot and was clearly grasping at straws to get people to listen to her. Rose wanted to badly to punch him in the face.

…

As the dinner dishes are collected, Molly comes up to thank all the committees for their hard work before the auctioneer comes to the podium. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to announce winners of tonight's auction. I would like to thank everyone for their time and generosity, much of these funds will go to _Titanic_ victims." He holds out his list. "The very first item, an antique silver tea set goes to Johnathan Morgan with a startling 1500 dollars"

There is applause as the auctioneer goes on listing of the highest bids on the items. Emma and Peter listen together, glad that they didn't waste their money on expensive things they didn't need. If the committee had simply asked for a donation, they would've given it willingly, but sponsorship was alright too, they agreed. Rose saw that her paintings went for quite a lot, over 1000 dollars or more, which Cal jokingly went on that it was way more than they were worth.

"And now finally, the most bid on piece of the night, nicknamed; "The Lady in Red" painted by J. Dawson

The portrait of the red-haired woman is shown. There is much applause. Jack couldn't believe it. His painting of Rose was the most desired piece of the auction and someone bought it for more 5000 dollars. Plus, the amount of money, the other two paintings made. Father Bill looks over at Jack from across the table and grins. Jack now has enough money to support himself for months, maybe even years

Rose gasps to herself when she sees the portrait again and the name. J. Dawson

 _No, it can't be…_ He was dead. It was probably some other artist. After all, Dawson was a common name. The "J" probably stood for Joel or Jackson or Jeffery. She felt tears come to her eyes. She swallows hard and begins fiddling with the napkin on her lap. She hates that Cal is here, ruining what should have been a night of freedom for her. She simply wanted to have a night to herself, since everything else was being controlled by her mother. Tonight was supposed to be fun and instead, it's a complete nightmare.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, coffee and dessert will be served and the dancing will begin shortly."

Once the noise began to pick up, the patrons around him began congratulating Jack on his success. Jack thanked them all with a bright smile. He went to talk to the auctioneer and the man told him the money would be written in a cheque

She excuses herself, but Cal grabs her arm firmly.

"Where are you going Sweet pea?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"I need to powder my nose," Rose whispers. Cal releases her then.

Instead of heading for the washrooms, Rose headed outside towards the street. Cal had ruined everything that night, once again making her life miserable. She was so desperate to escape this life, she just wanted to end it all. She pulls her hair out as she walks towards the street. She rips off the necklace Cal had given her. Tears are burning her eyes. She felt all the emotions she felt the night she wanted to jump off the ship. It felt like it was deja vu, only this time, there would be no Jack to save her.

She walked to the edge of the street, which was teaming with cars, rushing along into the night.

Rose's breath catches in her throat.

 _Don't do it.._. she hears in her head. She wishes Jack would just say those words again, pull her back over the side.

She stops at the curb. The cars rushing by moving her dress, inches from her body.

She thinks back to her child...their child...

"No..." she says to herself. "Jack did not die just to have me end it all..."

His words about her going to make babies and growing old, dying an old lady warm in bed echo in her mind. Tears stream down her face. She steps back from the street.

Rose walks back towards the hall, music now echoing out towards her.

She pauses and then walks around the building, where there are less light and excitement. She finds a spot on the grass in a small garden.

She lays back on the grass and stares up at the sky. The moon is almost full tonight and very few stars could be seen since the bright lights of New York City drowned them out. Rose is suddenly thrown back to the awful night where she lay atop the wreckage of a door and she and Jack drifted, praying for help. Tears filled her eyes and Rose swallowed hard.

 _If only music could bring him back…_ she thought.

She lays a hand on her still flat stomach.

 _At least you're still with me._ She thought. _I promise that I will love you with every breath in my body!_

She begins to sing.

 _Come, Josephine, my flying machine…_

…

"Shall we dance Madame?" Peter asks as the music begins to play.

Emma smiles. "But Peter your leg…"

"Never mind my leg, let's dance up a storm…"

Emma laughs and takes Peter's hand. The band is relatively lively, not anything special, but just enough that the two of them can dance at a decent speed.

"I love you…" Emma whispers to Peter.

"I love you too…" Peter smiles.

…

Jack goes outside for a smoke break. He was slightly bored now that the dancing had started but he had no one to dance with. He had tried to go see Molly, but she was nowhere in sight. He'd also collected the cheques for his paintings, so he was ready to call it a night. Father Bill was still busy with some people, so he thought he'd grab a smoke and then flag a cab back to the church. He can't help but feel excited that he's earned so much money, enough to buy his own house even if he's careful. What makes him feel faint is the fact that people actually liked his artwork and paid money to own it. It had always been his dream to be recognized, but until now that was all it seemed to be, a dream. If it hadn't been for Father Bill, he would never have taken that chance, taken the risk and be rewarded for it. Money meant a little, but the fact that he was living his dream, that was the best prize of all. He looks up to the sky.

"Thank you, God," he smiles.

As he's lighting his cigarette up, he hears a weird noise. He steps away from the building to hear it better with the music and noisy crowds inside. It's unusual, it sounds like an independent melody, so he begins to walk, trying to find the source of the sound.

As he gets closer he knows it is a woman singing. He begins to follow the sound, around the building, towards the back of the hall. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He sees a woman lying down on the grass, not caring who sees her. He sees the red curls and the flowing blue dress that seemed to match the night sky. As he drew closer, the voice sounded more and more familiar. It was a very sweet and demure voice, quiet but melodic. He definitely knew the song.

 _Oh say let us fly girl,_

 _Where dear? To the sky girl_

 _Oh you, flying machine_

 _Come, Josephine, in my flying machine_

 _Going up, all on, goodbye…_

 _That was our song…_ he thought. The last time he heard it, he was clinging to a piece of a door in the Atlantic.

He approaches the woman. He blinks twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things. His heart pounds loudly in his ears and he begins to sweat. He didn't want to fill himself with false hope again. He also didn't want to frighten the woman either. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and gets closer.

As she finishes the last few words, the woman sits up. She appears to have been crying. She wipes her tears from her face, then two words escape her mouth.

"Oh, Jack," she says. "I miss you,"

Jack's heart begins racing and his breath becomes shallow. He pinches himself to make sure he's not dreaming. He begins to walk even faster towards her. He wants to get this woman in his arms. He's missed her so much. He has no reservations now that she's said the words that he'd longed to hear.

Rose stands up and turns. She too, gasps, she blinks several times to make sure she isn't hallucinating. She takes a step forward as the man gets closer. She can see his features more clearly. It can't be him! I must be dreaming!

"Jack?"


	41. Chapter 40: Reunion Part 2

Chapter 40: Reunion Part 2

"Rose, is that you?"

Rose's eyes fill with tears and her heart begins pounding loudly.

"Jack…is...is... am I dreaming?"

Jack embraces Rose tightly.

"I'm here Rose, and I'm not going anywhere…not ever again," he whispers

Rose lifts Jack's face to hers and they kiss. It is a deep and passionate kiss. Rose feels whole once again, her heart bursting with happiness. Now her child would have a father and she could leave the life she hated so much.

"I missed you so much," Rose says, once they break apart. She keeps her hands on his face and feels his skin as if he'll disappear. Tears are pouring down her face and her heart is going to burst in joy. Jack clings to her too, running his hand through her hair, her beautiful curly hair that he had attempted to capture in his painting. But now, here was the real thing, safe in his arms. God's work of art.

"I missed you too."

"But…but Cal…" Rose stammers and realizes how easily she was fooled. She felt awful for not trying to escape sooner and looking at the survivors' list for herself. She had simply given up all hope.

"Cal? Please don't tell me you're…"

"He found me when we were brought on board and I've been under lock and key ever since," Rose explains.

"But what are you doing in New York?"

"I donated some of those paintings for the auction, I just can't believe that 'Lady in Red' one was me,"

"It's how I saw you," Jack says. "A lady of beauty."

They kiss again. Rose cannot believe that Jack is here, alive and they can finally go off and do the things they had talked about on the ship and explore the world as they so desired. She felt a wave of emotions; happiness, sadness, anger, joy, all flowing through her and coming out in the form of tears and pressure of her holding him close. She never wanted to release him again. She'd almost lost him once, she doesn't want to again.

Suddenly, the front door of the hall opens in the distance.

"Rose?!" an all too familiar voice calls out.

"Oh no!" Rose screeches and shrinks into Jack's arms. Jack puts his arm around her tightly.

"Quick, we'll sneak in the back and get a taxi!"

Rose nods and they both go back towards the building. They press their backs against the wall and shift to the back entrance. Both of them slip inside, giving both of them a slight reminder of the night they were running away from Cal's manservant, Lovejoy. Except, Lovejoy wasn't as angry and wouldn't kill at the drop of a hat.

Once inside, they can hear the music playing from the nearby hall and the chattering crowd. This gives Jack an idea

"We should go through the crowd to give ourselves more cover," Jack suggests.

"I'm never going back to him again," Rose says. "Lead the way."

Jack squeezes her hand and leads her forward. They hurry back into the hall. Many people around them are swaying to the music enjoying the night. They begin shifting along the side, trying to make it to the front door exit to get to the street. It becomes difficult when the music picks up, but fortunately, it would take a miracle for Cal to find them. Rose struggles in her heels to keep up with Jack, she doesn't want to let go of his hand. Not ever again.

Suddenly, someone steps on Rose's gown, pulling her from Jack's grasp and she trips over someone's foot and lands on top of someone else, hard. They both grunt. Rose's mind immediately thinks about her baby. She landed on the man pretty hard and her ankle hurts now. It's the darn shoes she's wearing. Some people look down at them, suspicious looks on their faces, while others gather around to offer some kind of assistance.

"Rose!" Jack practically yells, trying to help her and the man up.

Rose blinks to see who she ran into. She recognizes the blue eyes and blonde hair; last time she saw them they were being loaded into a lifeboat.

"Peter?" Rose says in shock.

"Rose?" he responds, stunned.

Rose looks up to see Emma standing over them. When they lock eyes, Rose practically screams.

"Oh my God, Emma?!" Rose says, tears in her eyes.

"Rose? Jack? Is that you?" Emma gasps. She feels like she's going to pass out in surprise. Neither of them was dead after all. Tears fill Emma's eyes and she impulsively leans forward to hug Jack and then Rose.

"Emma..." Jack says in surprise, pulling her against him. He too has tears in his eyes. He then pushes against Emma to get a better look at her. "How? When? You... You went over the railing?"

"Takes more than a sinking ship to take me down," Emma smirks slightly through her tears.

Those of the four standing lean over and help both of their partners up. Once Rose is up, her ankle explodes in pain. She winces and exhales through gritted teeth. Peter too, did not escape unscathed, his chest is aching in pain and the fall didn't help with his leg.

"Rose are you alright?" Jack asks anxiously.

"My ankle…" is the response. She can hardly stand.

"Are you okay Peter?" Emma asks, mostly concerned about his bad leg.

"I think we should go to the hospital," Peter says. "My leg and my ribs are hurting."

"I've got the car out back," Emma says quickly. "We'll go together."

"But Cal!" Rose gasps. "He's here too, he'll see us. He's looking for me."

"He doesn't know that Peter and I are alive," Emma says quickly. "You two go back the way you came and we'll meet you out the side."

"Okay, but hurry," Rose says.

Emma and Peter rush away to get their things and go out the hall door. The crowd that had gathered around the scene had dispersed back to dancing and drinking.

"Can you walk Rose?" Jack asks.

Rose puts pressure on her foot and winces. "I don't think so," she says.

"Here," Jack says, he puts Rose's arm over his shoulders and holds her side. "Lean on me."

Rose leans on Jack, keeping pressure off her foot and the two limp back towards where they came in. Rose's heart is pounding in her chest. What if one of Cal's associates saw them and told him? What if Ca comes across them? What would he do to Jack?!

She tries to shake the awful night where gunshots were being fired at them as they went into the heart of the sinking ship and Cal yelling after them that he hopes they enjoy their time together. She tries to keep her head low and uses her loose curls to hide her face. Every little sound from around them makes her flinch. Her heart is pounding in her ears, as well as the music.

Once they are in the shadows of the outside, the two lovers work their way towards the side of the hall, where Emma and Peter would be waiting for them.

Neither of them can believe that Emma is alive. They were both horrified and devastated when they saw their friend get shot in the shoulder. It all happened so quickly that there was nothing that either of them could do before Emma vanished beneath the waves of the Atlantic, seemingly forever. And yet here she was, at the dinner and dancing, as happy as ever.

"I guess miracles can happen," Rose whispers. Jack tries to smile as they limp to the side of the road.

A small car pulls up, with Emma driving and Peter in the passenger seat.

Peter opens the back door. "Hop in!" he says. "And hurry, we saw Mr. Hockley out in the parking lot, we barely got to our car without him recognizing us."

Jack lifts Rose into the seat and then climbs in after her. He shuts the door and Emma takes off down the street.

Now that they were safe, Jack reaches over to Rose and tries to hold her foot in place.

"Ow Jack!" Rose gasps in pain. "Please don't touch it!"

"The hospital isn't too far away," Emma says, turning into traffic. "Hang in there."

Despite the fact that they were safe, Rose is extremely worried. The fall with Peter made her fear for her child. The impact could've very well killed their baby and the fear made Rose cry, tears streaming down her face. She is gripped by fear and worry.

"Rose, what's wrong?" Jack asks frantically.

"I-I'm worried about the baby Jack," Rose says, without even thinking.

Jack's eyes go wide and his heart drops. The colour drains from his face. Emma too nearly crashes the car and Peter gasps.

"Did you say, _baby_?" Peter asks.

Rose nods and she looks at Jack.

"It's yours," she says tearfully. "He or she was the only thing that kept me going and drove me to chase my dream. I was so sad that you'd never get to see him/her, I know you…"

Jack leans forward and kisses Rose hard. He is now crying too. Not only had he found Rose, but he was going to be a father. He couldn't be happier, reunited, safe and they really could start their lives together. He never wants to let Rose go again.

"I'm so happy," Jack finally says.

Rose feels great relief, so happy to have her life back, with the man she loves.

"I love you," Rose says.

"I love you too," Jack smiles.

Emma can feel herself tear up. Rose and Jack are finally getting the life they wanted and it was clear that not even a sinking ship could get between them. She's so overwhelmed that she nearly misses the turn for the hospital.

Once she parks, Jack carries Rose into the hospital bridal style while Emma and Peter take it slower.

The nurse at the counter greets them and Jack explains what happened. The nurse brings wheelchairs for Rose and Peter and they are wheeled in to see the doctor. They were all seated in a private examination room together.

The doctor who walks in immediately recognizes Emma and Jack.

"My miracle patients!" he says in surprise.

Emma and Jack look at each other while Rose and Peter look on in confusion.

"You were a…" Emma begins.

"Yes," Jack says. "You too?"

Emma nods. She felt a little bit of remorse for not actually looking at the other John and Jane Does to see if they were her friends so they wouldn't be alone, but then again the odds were against her actually finding them considering how many passengers were aboard the ship. Plus, Mr. Jamieson kept her busy all the time she was here, so it made a bit of sense.

"These two were brought in from the _Titanic_ in coma-like states, but they managed to wake up," the doctor explains. "They defied the odds, especially the boy right here, and that's why they're called the miracle patients."

Peter too felt remorse that he hadn't thought to check the hospital for Emma, he was even there with get treatment for his leg. He wanted to beat himself up until he moved his chest and he grimaces. Emma puts her arm on his leg and looks at him with concern.

Rose reaches over and holds Jack's hand. "He's certainly a miracle to me."

"Okay, what seems to be the problem?" the doctor asks, looking at his charts.

"We had an accident on the dance floor, I ended up tripping and falling on top of Peter here and I think I twisted my ankle or even broken it," Rose explains.

"Well, let me take a look here," the doctor says.

The doctor works carefully, poking and prodding at Rose's ankle which makes her groan and wince frequently.

"Well, it's not broken, but you do have a bad sprain," the doctor concludes. "We'll have to wrap it up and you'll have to stay off it for at least two weeks."

"We're also worried doctor, you see Rose is pregnant and we're concerned about the baby," Jack adds quickly.

"Well, I'll do an inspection, but I'll have the nurse prep you for it," the doctor says. He rings for a nurse and she begins to wheel Rose away, except Jack tries to follow her. The doctor puts his hand out. "A private inspection," the doctor adds. "Don't worry, she'll be in safe hands."

Jack swallows and kisses Rose once before she leaves the room. The doctor goes to work on Peter. He does a full inspection of the boy's chest and leg, checking his breathing and feeling around the ribcage.

"You've got some bruised ribs son," the doctor concludes. "We'll wrap them up too and you should put ice on them frequently and take cooler baths. I'll also prescribe you some aspirin for the pain, as well as give you breathing exercises and you should get plenty of rest."

"But what about…" Peter begins but Emma gives him a look that cuts him off.

"I will handle the company," Emma says. "I've been doing it for several weeks now."

"Right," Peter says, turning red in embarrassment.

"I'm going to check on your wife now," the doctor says.

"She's not my…" Jack begins, but again meets Emma's warning stare. She's trying not make this any harder than it has to be. For now, Jack and Rose were married. The last thing the needed was unfair treatment from a doctor.

The doctor frowns, but then shrugs and leaves the room.

"Thanks, Emma," Jack breathes in relief.

"Just for now," Emma says. "Until you can do it legally."

A nurse comes in and helps bandage Peter's chest and gives him his pain killers and they wait for news on Rose.

Eventually, the doctor comes back. Everyone holds their breath.

"She's fine," the doctor says. "I can still hear a separate heartbeat, but she must be very careful with the remainder of the pregnancy. Which is why I won't be prescribing her any aspirin."

"Thank you, doctor," Jack says, standing up to shake his hand.

"It's the least I can do for my miracle patient," the doctor jokes. "She'll just be a few more minutes and then you can see her."

Jack sighs in great relief. He looks over at Emma and Peter.

"I can't believe I'm going to be a dad," he says in amazement.

"It definitely won't be easy," Emma says. "I should know."

The three of them laugh.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Rose is relaxing as the nurse wraps up her ankle.

"You're such a lucky woman to have such a great husband," the nurse comments.

"He's…" Rose stops and realizes the last thing she needs is to admit she's having the baby out of wedlock. "He is amazing, I am lucky."

"That about does it," the nurse says, tying the gauze up. "Just remember to rest a lot and put ice on it when you can."

"Thank you," Rose says, relieved that the child is fine and she's back with Jack again.

"Can I just get your name for hospital records," the nurse asks, going through some sheets.

"Rose Dawson."


	42. Chapter 41: Rampage

Chapter 41: Rampage

"OPEN THIS GODAMN DOOR!"

Wendy drops her book in shock. She was right in the middle of a good part of her book and the sound of this…man screaming nearly gave her a heart attack. It had been a quiet night for the maid since Mr. Hockley took her place at escorting Miss Rose to the dinner. She went to a small café in the hotel for dinner and read her books as the sun went down. She was taken in by the beauty of the city and tried to practice writing some poetry. She had basically been reading ever since.

As she approaches the door, she recognizes the man's voice. He's yelling at someone down the hall telling him to shut up and he can yell if he damn well wants to. Wendy doesn't really want to open the door as she fears for her own safety. She grabs a glass bottle from the nearby desk and holds it beside her, prepared for anything.

She reluctantly opens the door.

"M-Mr. Hockley?" she asks timidly.

Cal shoves his way inside, pushing the door and Wendy away from him. He's red in the face, his eyes have this wild, unstable look in them. His hair is no longer gelled and he's covered it what seems to be dirt.

He begins tearing up the room, flipping over a table and turning up the bed covers. Wendy is paralyzed in fear, confused and very upset that Mr. Hockley's rampage will hurt her or someone else.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" he barks at the maid. "WHERE IS SHE?!"

"Miss Rose?" Wendy asks quietly.

"Yes, Miss Rose," Cal yells. He kicks the nearest object which happens to be a nightstand with the telephone on it, causing everything to go clattering to the floor. "Where is she?"

"I-I don't know sir."

"Don't you lie to me!" he yells.

"I-I'm not sir…" Wendy was afraid this might happen. When Rose takes off for the sunset, towards freedom, of course, Wendy would be asked by many people if she knew anything about it. It was something she had yet to discuss with Rose, she feared that she would lose her job. However, now it wasn't just her job, it was her life.

"You're lying!" Cal hollers. "You knew something. The minute I turn my back, she's running away like a thief in the night. Now I discussed with Mrs. Bukater how concerned I was that you had become so close, but now I believe that you know something. Women always keep secrets for one another… One of the most annoying and stupid traits they carry!"

Cal suddenly spies the book that Wendy dropped in shock. He picks up the book and rips it in half.

"NO!" Wendy shrieks.

"You and your useless shit about being equal. Your equal pay, your education, your rights. You'll never be equal to a man, you've always been the weakest of the species and as long as men run this world, you will always be nothing, but worthless pieces of…"

"Please, sir!" Wendy begs. "I don't know where she is…"

Cal collars Wendy against the wall. The maid doesn't even have time to bring the bottle up to protect herself. Wendy doesn't even have time to scream he does it with such force that she gasps for air.

"Where is she?" he hisses in her face.

Wendy can smell the liquor on his breath, it's overwhelming that the maid just might vomit from it.

"I-I swear sir I don't know…" Wendy says, tears streaming down her face.

"I…don't…believe…you…" Cal hisses, his voice eerily calm. Wendy can only cry as she is in the arms of a madman.

"HEY!" a voice yells.

Cal and Wendy turn to see a man, not much older than Wendy, standing at the door, wearing a night shirt and in bare feet. He has dark eyes and dark hair, that almost seem to shine in anger. It doesn't take long for the man to take in the scene.

"At first, it was just annoying mere intoxication, but now it's gone too far. The police are on their way, so kindly put the girl down and get out of here!"

Wendy is amazed at the boy's courage, standing up to this drunken man, not an inch of fear in his eyes. Cal, however, is very much annoyed. Like an angry bull, he begins to switch targets. He slowly releases his grip on Wendy.

"Get the hell out of here," Cal says. "This doesn't concern you."

"If you're about to hurt an innocent woman, it does concern me!"

"Get out before I hurt you too,"

"You don't scare me," the boy says bravely.

Cal completely releases Wendy and approaches the boy. Not a flash of fear crosses the boy's eyes. Cal brings his fists up.

"Very well, it's your funeral."

Cal lunges forward with his right fist, but the boy ducks. Cal turns to swing again, but the boy decks him with one punch. Cal goes falling to the floor. The boy stands back, clearly only wanting to fight in defense. Cal, however, does not. He gets back up and punches the boy across the face. The boy goes down on one knee and Cal lands another punch, forcing the man to the floor. Cal gets on top of him, the boy kicking and thrashing, fighting to get up. Cal hits once more…

Wendy smashes the bottle over his head. Cal rolls off the boy and lands on the floor unconscious and bleeding. The maid goes to help the boy up. She's still in shock about what she just did, she knew for sure that she would lose her job now, but she wouldn't want to work for such horrible people anyways.

"A-Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm fine," the boy says, dusting himself off. "I just couldn't let him get away with hurting you like that."

Wendy is impressed. Her heart beats quickly and she smiles. She feels like she was just swept off her feet and rescued by a knight in shining armor. When he looks at her, his eyes seem to gleam and she blushes slightly.

The police enter the room and both conscious individuals tell them what happened. The police cuff Cal, pulling him up off the floor and forcing out of the room. The officers offer medical attention to either of them and congratulate the boy for standing up to him. They ask if Wendy wants to pursue charges, but she says no. There would be very little chance that she could win anyways. They leave after getting their statements.

When the two are alone, Wendy turns to her rescuer.

"I can't thank you enough," she says gently. She then notices his wound. "Oh, your lip's bleeding."

"It's okay," the boy says, wiping the blood off his lip. "I've had worse."

"I just can't believe you stood up to him like that," Wendy says. "He was so dangerous and you could have been seriously hurt."

"I knew that I just hate it when bullies take advantage of others like that. Picking on the weaker, or more helpless in this case."

Wendy smiles. She then looks over at the mess that Cal made. She looks down at the remains of her book. She kneels down and begins picking up some of the pages. To her surprise, the boy kneels down to help her.

"Wow, _Death in Venice_ ," he says, reading the cover. He seems rather impressed. "Is it any good?"

Wendy nods. She can't help but cry at the remains of what was her book.

"Are you okay?" the boy asks, reaching out to grab her hand.

When they touch, Wendy's face turns red and her heart beats harder. She's never felt like this before, but she likes it.

"I-I'm fine, it's just…" Wendy wipes her eyes, clearly embarrassed of crying over a silly book.

"You like books?" the boy prompts.

"Yes, and this wasn't even mine, it belonged to the library."

"I'm sure they'll understand," the boy says gently. "It got pretty sticky there for a second and what he was yelling about women never being equal, that's a load of crap."

Wendy looks surprised. "R-Really?"

"Yes…" the boy says with a smile. "Women are equal and they deserve to be so. It's unfair the way men treat women and I believe that everyone is important."

Wendy sits down on the bed and looks at the remnants of the book.

"I was just getting to the good part," she sighs.

"Don't be too down on yourself, I just like that you can read, from a woman of service that is…"

"What's that's supposed to mean?" Wendy says defensively.

"Not that I…I just assumed with the outfit that you were in service and the way he treated you. I-I'm sorry, I'm an idiot. I can't read very well anyways and I just mean that many people that I've met who are in service can't read and…"

Wendy giggles a little bit to stop his ranting apology. "It's okay, to be honest, I've heard worse from others. I guess it is impressive that I can read, but my mistress taught me how."

"Sounds like she is a good person."

"She's the best. She actually encouraged me to pursue my dreams and is helping make it happen."

"What is you dream?" the boy asks.

Wendy immediately shrinks away, moving towards the edge of the bed. Despite the fact that Rose was helping her achieve her dream, it still felt silly and just a dream at this point. She was still a maid and still learning to read.

"What's wrong?" the boy asks. "What did I say?"

Wendy says nothing.

"I just asked what your dream was…"

"It's stupid, you'll laugh," the maid says.

"No, I won't,"

"Yes, you will."

"Listen, I've heard of all the dreams in the world. My friends have told me their dreams and trust me they are not stupid."

Wendy keeps her head down and her face away from the boy.

The boy pauses and then sighs.

"What if I tell you my dream, you tell me yours?"

Wendy doesn't say anything, but it sounded fair. If his dream was as crazy as hers, they would be equal.

"When I was growing up, I always wanted to be a hockey player. I thought that maybe someday I would go to the Olympics and bring home a gold medal. But…" the boy's face suddenly falls. "Ever since I hurt my knee, it's impossible. If I did try skating again, I'd probably never walk again"

Wendy's heart goes out to him immediately, and she thought her dream wasn't achievable, but by the sounds of this boy's dreams, it's like it's already dead.

She goes back over.

"What happened?" the maid asks.

"Stupid accident on the farm. My brother dared me to climb to the roof of the barn on a rope, I made it, until the rope pulled down a piece of the rafters and when I fell, I landed funny, breaking my knee cap. I haven't been able to walk that well ever since."

The boy lifts up his left pant leg, revealing that his knee was crooked, parts of the kneecap were sticking out a weird angle.

"I-I'm sorry," Wendy says. She did feel sorry for him. She wished that she could help this boy in some way, but of course, there is nothing that she can do. She wishes she could work miracles. The words of what Rose said when they talked about their dreams for the first time echo in her head.

 _Everyone has a chance to be anything they want to be. Nothing is impossible_

However, by the looks of it, this boy's dream would only stay that way.

"It's okay," the boy shrugs. "I did something stupid and I paid for it."

 _But with your dream…_ Wendy says in her mind. She feels like she wants to cry in sympathy for him. They are quiet for a few moments.

"I want to be a writer like Jane Austen," Wendy says. The boy looks at her with a smile.

"How is that a stupid dream?" he asks.

"Because for a long time, I couldn't read or write and it seemed like a stupid dream. My mother and father even say so."

"Well, your mother and father don't know what they're talking about. People who say things like that never achieved their own ambitions. That is a very good dream, something that I think you can achieve if you keep on trying,"

Wendy smiles and finds herself blushing harder than ever before. She becomes dizzy as if she just ran a long distance and has just won the race. The boy reaches over and grabs her hand.

"Thank you…" Wendy says. "It's been a long time since anyone has said that to me."

"You're welcome," the boy grins.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, holding hands.

"So…" Wendy says, breaking the silence. "You lived on a farm?"

"Yes,"

"So did I and I did some pretty stupid stuff too."

"Like what?" the boy asks.

Wendy tells the boy about her life in the country. They begin sharing stories of their past, laughing and reminiscing about their days on the farm. Wendy likes this boy, a lot and she wants to stay with him for as long as possible. He begins to crack many jokes and even does impressions of other people, making Wendy laugh so hard she might wet herself. She has never met someone so funny and wants to keep him here. This boy is full of surprises and she wants to know everything about him. They both enjoy each other's company until the sun begins to poke its rays into the window.

"Well…" the boy says. "I'd better go…"

"But wait!" Wendy says. But stops, feeling embarrassed that she is asking the man to stay with her.

"What is it?"

"I feel like I've been rather shaken up by the ordeal and may need the company of a man for a little while."

The boy grins widely. Wendy turns a dark shade of red, very mortified by her lame excuse.

"Well, I shouldn't leave a woman alone in such a big city. Perhaps this shaken woman would like to accompany me to breakfast," The boy says, playing along with a big wide grin.

"I think she'd like that,"

"I'll to see you soon then,"

"Wait!" Wendy calls. "What's you name?"

"Tommy. Tommy O' Donnell"


	43. Chapter 42: Safe

Chapter 42: Safe

"What do we do now?" Rose asks as all four of them climb back into the car. "I can't go back to the hotel, that's the first place Cal will look for me."

"You're not going back to him are you?" Jack asks.

Rose leans forward and kisses Jack.

"Not ever again, but I do need to go for some of my things, like my maternity dresses and my money."

"Your money?" Jack asks in confusion as Emma pulls onto the road.

"I pawned off most of my jewelry to save some money for myself. I was going to leave very soon. After the disaster, I knew I couldn't stay in this life, so I pretended to be the lady my mother wanted me to be and secretly I was planning my escape. It got more desperate and urgent when I found out I was pregnant."

"Well, you guys can't go anywhere until Rose's ankle heals," Emma says. "So you're welcome to stay at our place."

"Really?" Jack says in shock.

"Really," Emma smiles. "There is plenty of room for everyone, plus you guys can see how much Sybil has grown. She's really close to crawling."

Rose smiles, despite how much her ankle hurt. She finally felt safe, glad that she was almost free of Cal and first class society and she and Jack could start a life together, do what they pleased, explore the world.

Jack suddenly remembers something important.

"Wait, Emma, take a left here, I need to go get a few things."

"O-Okay," Emma says confused. She does as Jack asks, following his directions until they pull up to a church.

"What are we doing here?" Peter asks.

"I've been working here, restoring the paintings and statues inside. I've also been living here."

"Oh Jack," Rose says sympathetically. She hadn't thought about how Jack basically had no one to help him and he was trying to get his life on track, all on his own.

"It's okay, I was inspired to paint those paintings and I was able to heal, plus I saw Molly again."

"Molly?" Rose gasps.

"She came here to ask for sponsorship from the church and found me. She was going to tell me where you were when she got the message that her cousin had a heart attack, I haven't seen her since."

"Me neither," Rose says. She calculated that Molly must've met Jack after she had been in Philadelphia, otherwise the woman would've told Rose of Jack's survival.

"I just have a few things to get and to say goodbye to someone who has given me a lot of guidance."

"Okay," Emma says. "We'll wait here."

Jack kisses Rose before going up the steps of the church. He walks through the darkened church, giving off a more sinister vibe than ever before. He finds his way to his room and begins packing what few things he had, to begin with. He gathers everything in his arms and takes one last look at the tiny room. It definitely wasn't perfect, but it had kept him safe and warm for over a month. He would always be grateful to this church for helping him heal and allowed him to express his passion. He took one last look at the golden ceiling before going behind the altar to find Father Bill.

To Jack's surprise, there was a light in the pastor's office, as if the man had been waiting for someone.

Jack knocks on the pastor's office door.

"Come in,"

Jack opens the door. Father Bill looks up with a smile and takes off his glasses.

"I was wondering when you would come back to say good-bye," Father Bill grins.

"Good-bye?" Jack asks in confusion.

The pastor nods to the pile of clothes he had in his arms.

"I just came to say thank you for everything," Jack says. "You were really there for me when I needed it most and you never turned your back on me. I don't know if I'll ever repay you."

"Just remember that God is always watching over you and if you ever need to talk to him, he is there," the priest grins.

"I will, I cannot thank you enough for all your kindness," Jack says, feeling himself tear up a bit. Father Bill had been the father figure he'd been lacking for many years now and was grateful that the holy man had helped Jack open up his heart and follow his true path.

"Kindness comes in many forms, do not ever forget that," Father Bill says.

"I won't I promise. I will write whenever I can."

The priest grins once more and hands Jack and envelope.

"The last of your money," he explains. "And my address, write to me whenever you want."

He stands up and Jack offers his hand for a formal good-bye.

The priest, however, pulls the boy into a full hug.

"God bless you, my child," he says gently. "

Jack returns the hug, a few tears escaping his eyes.

"May I follow you out to meet this girl?" the pastor asks.

"Of course," Jack says and leads the man out of the church, down the steps and towards the waiting car.

Rose, Peter, and Emma are confused by the sudden presence, but Jack introduces them to him.

"This is Father Bill, he helped me when I needed it most."

Father Bill shakes everyone's hand, kissing Emma and Rose's. He reaches into the car and holds Emma's hand.

"May you always be happy my child, no matter how hard life may seem,"

"Thank you, sir," Emma smiles, happy to have such warm advice from such a holy man.

The pastor turns to Peter and puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Do not forget who you are and keep a smile on your face and you will always find your way,"

Peter nods and shakes the pastor's hand once more.

Father Bill turns to Rose, leaning into the car and takes her hand. He squeezes it affectionately.

"May you be at peace my child, never stray far from your path and keep him safe."

Rose's eyes fill with tears.

"I will I promise."

The pastor backs out of the car and allows Jack to slide in. Jack shakes the pastor's hand once more before closing the door.

"Be safe my son, and remember that you always have love."

Jack smiles widely at the priest. The man steps back as Emma starts up the car again. All the passengers in the car wave as the car speed down the road. Father Bill waves back and Jack keeps his eyes out the back window until the church and the pastor disappears from sight.

He would always remember him.

…

When everyone gets home, Jack helps Rose up the steps of the Carson/Whitman home. There is still a light on, indicating Holly is still awake.

Holly gets up to greet her brother and his wife as they come through the door but is shocked by the extra company.

"Holly, this is Rose and Jack, two friends we met on the _Titanic_. Rose and Jack, this is my sister, Holly," Peter introduces everyone.

Holly shakes Jack's hand and with difficulty shakes Rose's. Despite the introduction, Holly was still a bit lost.

"How about I make us some tea?" Holly says quickly. "Then you can explain everything to me."

Everyone agrees and Jack helps Rose to one of the living room sofas. Peter builds up a fire in the fireplace and Emma checks on Sybil and Thomas.

Rose likes Emma's house. It's big, but not extravagant. It's simple and comfy, perfect for raising a family. When Emma comes back, she hugs Rose, happy to see her friend again. Jack sits with Rose, his arm around her the entire time, feeling very comfortable. He too liked Emma's home and hoped that one day he and Rose could have a house like this to raise their child.

Holly brings in the tea on a tray and everyone helps themselves. Once everyone is settled in, Holly asks what the hell happened tonight?

Peter repeats his story to his sister and the others about being in the lifeboat and on _Carpathia_ and explains what he and Sybil had been doing since the disaster. Emma went next, talking about how she escaped from the ship and managed to pull herself up under one of the life boats. Her waking up in the hospital and then trying to put her father's company back together to when she and Peter were reunited. Rose told them about how she and Jack met, how they fell in love and the daring rescue that both she and Emma managed to pull off. She then gives details about how the couple rode the _Titanic_ down into the ocean and how Jack nearly died making sure Rose was safe. She told them about Cal finding her and her being under constant watch, her plan to escape, her friendship with Wendy and the discovery of her pregnancy.

"Wendy!" Rose gasps, forgetting completely about her friend. "She must be so worried and if Cal…"

"You can call her tomorrow Rose," Peter says reassuringly. "I'm sure she'll be okay. She's a tough gal from what you've told me."

Jack then told everyone about waking up in the hospital, getting a job in the church and painting his pictures, which earned him a lot of money. Then they all took turns explaining how they ended up at the dinner and the terrible fall that took them to the hospital.

By the end, almost everyone is in tears, from happiness, sorrow, shock, laughter and everything in between. It had been a long time since the house had been filled with laughter and Emma was so grateful for finding her friends again.

Soon, everyone begins to yawn and decide it's time to call it a night.

"I'll lend you some of my nightgowns Rose," Emma says. "And clothes if you need them. If nothing fits, we still have some of my mother's clothes in storage."

Rose smiles and tears up again, so thankful that fate brought the four friends back together.

"Thank you, Emma," Rose says.

"You can borrow anything that fits, Jack," Peter adds. "Or some of Emma's father's clothes."

Jack smiles too.

"Okay, I think it's time we hit the hay," Holly says with a grin. "It's been quite the night."

"A night to remember," Peter agrees.

Emma shows Jack and Rose their room, one at the end of the hallway, allowing the reunited couple some privacy. Jack carries Rose into the room and lays her on the bed. Emma and Peter both bring clothes for their guests and give another round of hugs before the married couple goes to bed.

Alone, at last, Jack and Rose change from their evening wear, carefully due to Rose's injury and snuggle under the covers. Rose begins crying.

"Why are you crying Rose?" Jack asks.

"I'm just so happy, this is the happiest moment of my life. I love you so much."

Jack gently reaches over and wipes the tears from her face and then kisses her.

"I love you too."

Jack turns out the light and climbs back into bed. Jack puts his arms around Rose and kisses her cheek as they lay in bed.

"Where to miss?" he whispers in her ear.

"The stars," Rose answers.


	44. Chapter 43: Freedom

Chapter 43: Freedom

Rose wakes up, expecting to be in her old room back to Philadelphia, her bed empty and cold. Instead, as she opens her eyes and see's Jack' beautiful face laying next to her. Her heart soars in happiness being back with him. It was clear to her that they were meant to be together because not even a sinking ship could get in their way. They were going to be parents and they could live a life of freedom together. Forever and always.

Rose tries to move and the pain of her ankle comes back, reminding her of the incident that brought all of them back together last night. She winces slightly and lets out a groan of pain.

Immediately, Jack's eyes open. He looks at her with concern.

"Are you okay Rose?" Jack asks.

Rose smiles.

"I'm fine, now that you're here," she says before kissing him. Jack runs his fingers through her curls and holds her close. Once again the pain comes back when she turns towards him and she winces.

Jack immediately backs off.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's okay," Rose says. "Just hold me."

Jack wraps his arms around Rose gently, laying his chin on her shoulder. He embraces her scent; he hasn't felt this wonderful since their night together in the car in the cargo hold. She fits so well into his arms, it's as if they truly were meant to be together. He kisses her cheek and feels her warmth.

"You sleep okay?" he asks.

"Best I've had in a long time," Rose replies.

"Me too," Jack says. "I could never sleep in peace if I knew you weren't here next to me."

Rose blushes and smiles again. She never wants this moment to end.

Suddenly, there are tiny footsteps pounding around the upstairs hall. Rose and Jack look at each other.

"Aunt Emma, Uncle Peeta are you awake yet?"

"Who's that?" Rose asks. She knows that Sybil was young, but she wouldn't be able to walk yet, let alone talk.

"Must be Holly's kid," Jack says. "I saw a ring on her finger and a bunch of kids toys that didn't look like Sybils on the floor last night."

Rose holds out her hands and looks at the engagement ring Cal had given her. In all the chaos of last night, she had forgotten to take it off.

Jack feels a surge of guilt in his stomach. He would never be able to buy Rose a ring as nice as the one she had on. He realized that he wouldn't be able to give Rose a lot of the things that she had, something that scared him from the beginning. He did have the money from the auction, but that would go more towards their house or food or clothing, things that were more important. He did want to buy her a ring, someday soon, but the world is a hard place, he knew that first hand. Society would not treat her the same if she was with him and things would be tougher, making ends meet and such and he wondered if Rose was ready to give up everything she knew just to be with him. He knew that she had sold a lot of her things to make money for herself, and their baby, but it was still going to be hard for her to adapt to a completely different life. He shifts uncomfortably in the bed.

"You okay?" Rose asks, sensing Jack's sadness.

"It's nothing…"

"Don't lie to me, what's wrong?"

"I'm just worried that I won't be able to care for you."

Rose rolls over to look at Jack's blue eyes. She gives him a smile.

"Remember what I said on the bow?" she asks him.

Jack tries not to shudder as that was a few moments before the iceberg hit the ship. He nods.

"I meant what I said then and I mean it now. You're my everything, Jack. You're giving me the things that Cal never could, respect, passion, care, and love. I value those more than all the diamonds in the world. I don't care about money or power or fancy things. I don't care if we end up under a bridge somewhere or on the ends of the earth… all I want is you…You jump I jump right?"

She pulls him in and kisses his fiercely, with ever ounce of strength in her body. She doesn't care if her ankle hurts, he is here. She never let go then, she's not letting go now.

"We have each other and that's what matters…" she says, caressing her thumb across his high cheekbone.

A piercing cry echoes through the house.

"That sounds like Sybil," Rose says.

"Be glad that you don't have to get up…" Jack smirks.

"That will be us in eight and a half months, though," Rose says. Jack's hands go around to her abdomen. Rose meets his hand there.

"I can't believe we're going to be parents."

"Me neither,"

"Have you given any thoughts to names yet?" Jack asks.

"Not really, but I have thought about what he or she will look like. I want the baby, if it's a boy, to look like you."

"Really?" Jack laughs. "If it's a girl, I want it to look like you."

They both chuckle to themselves.

"How about Tommy for a boy? or Fabrizio?"

Rose smiles. "And if it's a girl, Cora? Or Josephine?"

" _Come, Josephine, my flying machine…_ " Jack laughs, singing to her.

The two lay in bed until the smells of breakfast waft upstairs to their room. Rose's stomach growls. It's certainly not easy being pregnant.

"Ready to get up?" Jack smiles.

"I wish we could lie here all day, but I don't think the baby will let us."

"And we've put him or her at enough risk already."

With difficulty, Rose sits up, Jack with her the entire way. Both get themselves dressed and with some help, the two limp down the stairs. The two make their way to the kitchen.

Emma is standing over a warm pot of oatmeal, stirring it frequently, while Peter is brewing himself some coffee. Holly is unsuccessfully trying to feed Sybil some oatmeal, but the tiny tot simply wants to play with her food, getting it on everyone and everything. Little Thomas sits at the table, playing with his favourite car next to his own bowl of half-finished oatmeal.

"Mommy, who's the pretty lady and man?" Thomas asks. "She looks like a princess."

Jack grins and nudges Rose, who is blushing. Jack helps her to a chair and then sits down himself. Peter puts a cup of coffee in front of Jack, while Emma serves up two more bowls of fresh, hot oatmeal.

"Thomas, these are friends of ours from the ship we told you about," Emma answers for Holly. "Jack and Rose. Rose and Jack, this is Thomas, Peter's nephew."

"Hello there," Jack says.

"It's nice to meet you," Rose chimes in.

"I'm Thomas and I'm three. I can say the alphabet and count to almost fifty. I have my own baseball and bat and I can play _Gin Rummy_."

"That's quite an impressive resume," Rose smiles. She digs into the oatmeal in front of her, it warms her right up. "This is delicious Emma,"

"Thank you," Emma says. "My secret ingredient is a pinch of cinnamon."

Jack eats some of his, he too is warmed up, having not had good oatmeal since his parents were alive. Thomas drives his car around the table, making engine noises, much to his mother's dismay as she tries to coax him to eat his breakfast. He runs around the entire table in excitement is until he knocks his bowl over onto Rose and himself.

"THOMAS!" Holly gasps, her face turning red in embarrassment. She pulls her son back, oatmeal dripping everywhere. "I'm so sorry Rose."

"It's okay Holly, I needed a bath anyways," Rose says in good humor. She licks her fingers childishly and Jack can't help but laugh.

"Well, you're not the only one," Emma says, pointing her thumb over to Sybil, who is in a similar state. They all watch as Sybil dumps an entire bowl of oatmeal on her head and wears the bowl like a hat. Everyone laughs.

…

Wendy sips a bit of coffee and nibbles on a slice of toast. She and Tommy are eating at a restaurant across the street from the hotel, watching the morning traffic and for any sign of Rose.

"So what do you do Mr. O'Donnell?" Wendy asks.

"Please, call me Tommy," the man says, drinking his own coffee.

"Okay, Tommy, what do you do for a living?"

"I work in stocks and bonds mostly. I moved away from the family farm to come to the city and make my fortune."

Wendy smiles, knowing full well that everyone comes to the city to seek their fortunes. Her father had felt the same way when they moved from Chicago to Philadelphia and so did she, but yet her dream still felt as far away as any. She gazes out the window, deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

"To be honest, what to do next. With Miss Rose missing and the fact that I knocked out Mr. Hockley, I'm sure I've lost my job with the DeWitt Bukaters."

"Why not stay in the city?"

"I'd love that, but I don't have any money or a place to go."

Tommy swirls his spoon in his coffee and swallows hard. "Why don't you stay with me?"

Wendy nearly faints right there in the restaurant. Sure, she liked this man, but they had just met. He made her feel safe, and he was kind and respectful. She certainly liked his company, but to stay with a man before they were married was unthinkable and very scandalous.

"I…I…" Wendy stutters. Her face becomes flushed and Tommy himself is also rather embarrassed.

"It'd be okay, I mean, it's small, but my roommates and I are looking for someone new."

"But is it proper?" Wendy whispers, not wanting to be overheard.

"Who's to say? You are a respectable woman and you can always find a new job with your experience. The rent is cheap and there is plenty of room. You could also have a quiet space where you could write and try to publish your work. There'd be nothing…scandalous about it," Tommy says.

Wendy takes a long sip of her coffee. She certainly likes the idea of staying the city, far away from her family's influence and she could be anything she wanted. Now that she could read and write, she could be a secretary, a typist or something of that nature, she could escape service forever. Her heart pounded at the opportunity, plus she could get to know Harry better. Perhaps even…

"I…I'm not sure, I don't have very many things here and…"

Tommy's heart sinks. He likes Wendy and wants to get to know her, maybe even court her. It kills him to think she'd leave so soon, but now his impulsive actions have gotten the better of him again and he's scaring her off. He looks down at his feet and wants to beat himself up. Every time he acts impulsively, he ends up regretting it. It cost him his Olympic dream and now it's costing him his chance at… love?

Wendy suddenly spies a woman with red curls getting out of a taxi across the street. She knew without a doubt that this was Rose. She seemed to be in the company of a young blond man. She immediately gets up and hurries across the way. Tommy watches her go and sighs, his heart sinking, thinking he'd likely never see her again.

Wendy rushes up towards the couple as they enter through front doors of the building.

"Miss Rose!" the maid says frantically.

Rose turns to see Wendy, Jack supporting her as they go towards the front desk. The two had decided to go to the hotel to pick some of Rose's things, while Emma went to the office and Peter stayed at home with his sister and the children. They took a cab to the address and Rose was nervous that she might find Cal there. Clearly, she was in no shape to run if he saw her. She was also worried for Wendy, her friend and what might happen to her since the maid knew of her plans to escape.

Wendy embraces Rose.

"Oh, Miss Rose what happened?" Wendy gasps at Rose's bandaged foot.

"It's nothing to worry about, Wendy. I'm fine now," Rose reassures her.

Wendy's eyes go from her mistress's face to the handsome man standing next to her.

"Who is this?" Wendy asks.

"Wendy, this is Jack Dawson."

Wendy's jaw drops and her face goes pale. Jack holds out his hand and Wendy reluctantly shakes it. "Nice

"Nice to meet you," he says pleasantly.

"Y-You mean…"

"Yes, he survived after all," Rose says, trying to calm Wendy down. "We found each other last night at the event."

Rose explains the whole night in detail as the three of them take the elevator up to the women's floor and make their way down the hall. Wendy unlocks the door with the key and Rose stops short when she sees the room.

"Wendy… what…?"

Rose doesn't even have to finish the sentence, knowing full well what happened. She turns to Wendy and gives her a hug.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry, Wendy! I should've called or come back to warn you, it's just things happened so quickly…"

"It's alright Rose, I had some help and Mr. Hockley has been arrested."

"You're kidding?" Jack gasps, trying not to laugh or smile. After all the things the millionaire did to Rose, Emma, Peter, Sybil and himself, Cal was finally where he belonged, behind bars and wearing stripes.

Wendy explains what happened the night before and how Tommy had come to her rescue. Jack swallows a lump in his throat at the mention the name of his old friend who went down with the ship. She told them she wouldn't be pursuing charges for assault so he might be released very soon, which scared all three of them. They all knew first hand what Cal was capable of and fear began to grow within them.

"We need to go," Jack says. "There's not telling when he'll be back."

"Just let me gather up my things, but Wendy where will you go?" Rose asks.

Wendy swallows hard and turns red. Rose takes it as a sign that the two women should talk in private.

"Uh…Jack, could you give us a few moments to pack?" Rose asks politely.

Jack nods. "Sure, I'll just be outside."

Once he shuts the door, Rose sits down on the bed. Wendy sits down next to her and begins to cry. Rose puts her arms around her friend and comforts her. Just like the night when she told Wendy about _Titanic_ and Jack, Wendy was her rock and confidant, and now Rose had to be one for the maid.

"What's going on Wendy?" Rose asks.

Through the tears, Wendy tells Rose about this morning and how Tommy asked her to stay with him in the city. She describes how scared she feels about being on her own. Rose listens and comforts her friend. She knew exactly how Wendy feels, she was going to be in a similar situation very soon, she and Jack on their own, navigating the world she was unfamiliar with and leaving all she ever knew her. But still, as long as Jack was beside her, Rose knew she could face anything.

"I…I just don't know what to do…" Wendy whimpers.

Rose takes in a deep breath. "I think you should do it, Wendy?"

"What?" the maid gasps.

"I think you should, you have that chance to be free, you shouldn't waste it by going back into service. This is your chance to be an author and you have someone who cares about you and wants to help you."

"B-But your mother…"

"My mother has no power over either of us, not anymore. If you need a good reference, I will give it to you, but don't waste your one chance at freedom. I almost did and it nearly cost me, Jack."

"B-But Rose…it s-seems so crazy," Wendy says.

"Many things are crazy Wendy, but if we don't follow them, we're nothing more than butterflies in jars, flying in circles and only allowed to watch the world go by."

Rose pulls Wendy to face her. "You can't spend your whole life hiding and playing it safe. If Jack has taught me anything, it's that life is a gift and you need to live every day to the fullest, take that risk, jump off that cliff into the ocean. Life is too short to waste it dreaming about what might be when you should be doing something about it."

"But I-I'm scared."

"And so am I Wendy, but the world waits for no one and as long as you have someone there to support you, you can't miss…"

Wendy looks into Rose's eyes. Her heart is pounding very hard, her hands shaking, and she's sweating slightly; it all seems so scary and yet…so exciting. She glances over at her notebook, where she's been writing down her poems and other ideas. She stands up and goes to the window, looking down into the vast and seemingly endless city. There were so many places she could explore, the things she could try, the people she could be. She had always longed to be free, free to chase her dreams and free to be someone else. She had that chance and to do it with Tommy.

"Okay…" Wendy says. "I'll do it."

Rose smiles and Wendy comes over to give her mistress a hug. They both begin crying slightly and laughing, out of joy and out of anxiety about what will come next.

"You'd better hurry, before this Tommy O'Donnell leaves," Rose adds.

Quickly, Wendy finds their bags and helps Rose pack. She packs their dresses and all the things they brought from Philadelphia. Rose finds her money in the leather purse and Wendy finds the remains of the book she was reading. Rose tries to hand her friend some cash to pay for it, but Wendy refuses, she insists she will explain everything and the library will forgive her.

Jack comes in and helps Rose down the hall, while Wendy carries the bags.

Once they are outside in front of the hotel, Rose and Wendy hug for a long time.

"Thank you so much, Rose," Wendy says, tears in her eyes. "For being my teacher and my friend."

"Thank you, Wendy, for being my friend and, someone I could talk to," Rose says, equally emotional. "I wish you all the luck in the world."

"You too Rose and congratulations on your baby."

"Thank you," Rose says.

Wendy looks across the street in search of who she wants as a companion. To her great fortune, he stands across the street, clearly waiting for a bus. Wendy grabs her bags, shakes Jack's hand and hugs Rose once more before crossing the street towards Tommy. Her heart pounds loudly in her ears, but she can feel the excitement in her stomach. She's making her dreams come true.

When Tommy sees her walking towards him, he smiles. He embraces her and they get into the waiting vehicle.

Jack and Rose hold hands and watch as Wendy waves from the window of the bus. Tears are rolling down Rose's face, so happy for her friend.

"What did you tell her?" Jack asks.

"I gave her the same speech you gave me, that life's too short and you shouldn't waste it," Rose smiles. "How things seem so crazy, but that's why it makes sense."

"I guess I can be considered a crazy man for encouraging such morals."

Rose kisses Jack. "You're my crazy man and you are right. You always have been."

The two flag a cab and put Rose's bags in the trunk. They climb in and begin to take off back towards Peter and Emma's place. When they reach the Brooklyn Bridge, however, Rose tells the cab driver to stop.

With some difficulty, Rose gets out of the car goes to the edge of the bridge. Jack follows her, worried at first. Couldn't she be trying to repeat the incident on _Titanic_?

"Rose what are you doing?" he asks over the wind and honking horns.

"Leaving my old life behind!" Rose calls out. She removes Cal's engagement ring from her finger. "It's time for me to start flying…"

And with great joy, Rose chucks the ring over the side of the bridge and into the water.


	45. Chapter 44: Bad News

Chapter 44: Bad News

"Alright, Hockley you're free to go," the guard says. "One of your colleagues paid your bail."

Cal stands up and walks out of the cell. His head is pounding from the liquor and his entire body aches from the fight he had. He's just glad he's out of that filthy cell, no upstanding member of the community should be put into such a situation. He follows the guard as he goes to collect his belongings, including his jacket, pocket watch, and other things. He walks by a mirror on the way out. He has a bad shiner in his right eye and a cut lip.

"Darn kid, thinks he can protect a lowly maid," he grumbles. His hair is also messed up and his clothes are rumpled. There is also some dried blood on his cheek from where someone broke a bottle over his head. He cannot believe he spent the night in prison. This would not sit well with anyone at the office, especially his father. If anything, it was the maid's fault for provoking his outburst. She knew where Rose was and refused to tell him.

"I bet she still knows where she is," Cal mutters as he steps out into the sunlight.

His colleague, Johnathan is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps of the station.

"You alright Hockley?" Johnathan asks.

"I'm fine, thank you," Cal murmurs, walking along past Johnathan.

"Must've been some bar fight, that shiner's gonna last for days."

"It wasn't a bar fight; I was trying to find my fiancee. I was…asking her maid where she was and some no good kid thought I was attacking her and attacked me."

"That's awful," Johnathan says. "But you should know better Hockley, this will be all over the office, we'll have to put the rumors to rest sooner rather than later. You're lucky that you called when you did, otherwise, this would be in the papers."

Cal just keeps walking forward, toward the New York steel company office. He just wants to go back to his office and get some sleep. He refused to sleep on the cold metal bench in the holding cell at the station. He takes the back staircase to his New York office, leaving Johnathan behind without even a thank you. When he enters his office, his secretary looks up at him from her desk with concern.

"Oh sir," she says. "What can I do for you?"

"Get me some coffee and cancel my morning meetings," Cal growls.

"Y-Yes sir," the secretary nods before leaving her typing to get some coffee.

Cal goes into his office and sits down in his chair. He lays his head on the desk and shuts his eyes. He slowly begins to lose consciousness when his secretary knocks on his door.

"What do you want?" he growls.

"I have your coffee sir and your messages."

"Bring them in and get out!" Cal orders.

The secretary comes in with a hot cup of coffee and several pieces of paper.

"Just three messages sir, one from the company in Philadelphia, another from your father and another from Mrs. DeWitt Bukater."

"Thank you, Francine, now get out," Cal grumbles.

Francine shuts the door behind her.

Alone at his desk, Cal takes a sip of the hot coffee and looks at his messages. The one from his father was simply wondering where he had been and the one from the Philadelphia office was business as usual. He read the message from Mrs. Bukater. She was wondering how the night went and if Rose behaved herself. Cal was afraid that he would have to break the bad news to the waiting mother, that her daughter disappeared like a thief in the night. He groans and rubs his eyes, carefully due to his black one.

He wonders why he got into this in the first place. He'd only agreed to go to the dinner because of Ruth's insistence that Rose was still behaving recklessly. He knew he had to keep his eye on Rose, and yet she managed to slip from his fingers. He had searched the hall for what felt like hours, trying to find her. He had the staff look in every place possible, he even asked Margret Brown if she had seen Rose, but still nothing. He realized how much of a fool he'd been. He took a cab to a bar and drank his weight in alcohol while trying to figure out where Rose might be. Despite his intoxication, Cal remembered the address of Rose's hotel and figured she might've gone home to avoid any further time with him. He took another cab there and only found the maid. Then all hell broke loose.

He picks up the phone and dials the number.

"Hello?" Ruth says from the other end.

"Hello, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater," Cal says.

"Mr. Hockley, how did it go last night? Did Rose behave herself?"

Cal swallows hard. Despite all his wrong doings, he never wanted to be the bearer of bad news. This could very well kill Mrs. Bukater.

"Everything went fine until…Ruth…Rose is missing."

There's a large pause.

"MISSING!" Ruth screeches from the other end. The sound of the telephone hitting the ground is heard.

Cal listens as he hears Ruth sobbing and the housemaid doing her best to console the mother.

Eventually, the maid picks up the phone.

"Tell Mrs. Bukater that I'm calling the police and there will be searches going on for her. I will keep her informed."

"Very good sir, have a good day."

Cal drops the ear piece on the receiver and puts his head in his hands.

He cannot believe that he just did that, causing a mother an emotional breakdown and it wasn't even his fault. When Rose, ran off she never thought about what this would do to her mother. It was incredibly selfish of her to do so, not considering others needs. Cal takes a sip of coffee. For a brief second, he wonders…

Could the gutter rat be alive? Is he the reason she ran away? He shoves it from his mind. He never saw the man on the _Carpathia_ and it was highly unlikely that he could've survived anyways. He was sure the corpse that was buried at sea was him and even if it wasn't, his name wasn't on the survivor's list. And yet his influence had reached her, changed her, made her want to run away. Him and those brats with the baby. He was glad that he'd put bullets in both of them, maybe they'd learn they shouldn't meddle in other people's lives. Rose was meant to be his wife and if she thinks that running away would allow her to escape from him, she was wrong…so very wrong.

Cal picks up the phone again and asks for the operator.

"The police please…" he says.


	46. Chapter 45: Nightmares

Chapter 45: Nightmares

The warmth of his body presses against her. They kiss deeply as Rose sticks her hand up against the window in the heat of passion. Jack's coat on top of both of them. Both of their hearts are beating wildly. They want each other, forever and ever. Their moments of pure bliss make them want to shout to the world about their feelings of love and passion. They eventually lay against each other to rest for a moment.

"You're trembling," Rose whispers.

"It's okay, I'm alright," Jack breathes. He lays his head against her chest. "I can hear your heart beating."

Rose suddenly notices that the temperature in the Renault is dropping. She shivers hard, she can see their breaths now. She tries to get closer to Jack, but his body temperature was dropping. He was very cold.

A sudden noise interrupts their bliss. It's sounds like gunshots mixed with metal being ripped open. Rose sits up in the back seat and peers through the foggy window. To her horror, giant waves of water are rushing at them in their sanctuary.

The car is suddenly knocked to the side, spilling both of them against the window, shattering the glass in the process. Cold water sprays onto their naked bodies and both of them freeze up from the shock. The water begins to mix with their blood.

"Rose!" Jack hollers.

Rose tries to regain her balance, but she's in too much pain. She gasps when she sees Jack covered in cuts bleeding from his head and all over his body. He's so pale now that the blood is very noticeable. The water is filling the car quickly. They are both torn from trying to stop the bleeding or escape the flooding waters that are freezing both of them. Jack is trying to find a way out, climbing over the driver's seat to open the door before the car fills with water. Rose slips continuously, trying to help Jack, holding onto him, but he's so cold that it scares her.

There are distant rumbles and more cracking against the metal of the hull.

Rose screams as another wave washes over both of them, forcing them both under water. The both struggle, in a tangled mess, to find air. Rose shuts her eyes, her body completely numb from the cold and the red of their blood mixing together.

When she opens her eyes again, there are screams of all the desperate souls trying to survive in the icy cold water. They are above the surface, but the _Titanic_ is not. She's floating on the door, with Jack clinging to her, promising to never let go. The sounds of the others around them echo in her head and any tears that Rose sheds are frozen to her face.

As the noises quiet down, both Rose and Jack cling to each other. Jack barely conscious. Rose remembers that this is about the time that the boat shows up to rescue them, but instead, there is no light, no voice calling out for anyone who is alive, just the lapping of the water and Rose's struggling breaths.

"Jack," Rose whispers. "Jack!"

Jack doesn't respond.

"Jack please," Rose begs.

Rose's heart begins to sink. The boat never came so Jack has now died. She tries to cry, but her body is burning from the pain of losing him. He's so cold now and pale, void of all life. She'd never see those blue eyes again or hear his laugh. She feels little hope and it is only a matter of time before she joins the dead floating around her…

All of sudden there's a jolt from below, perhaps the darkness has come to claim them. Rose feels Jack's hand slip through hers and Jack's face disappears beneath the icy water...into the darkness.

Rose sits up in bed. She's panting hard and sweating. She immediately turns to her side and her heart soars. Jack lays next to her, sleeping peacefully, warm and alive. Rose realizes that she's also been crying as she wipes tears from her eyes. The covers around them are rumpled beyond belief and despite everything, Jack remains unconscious.

She's so distressed that she has to get up. She can't sleep anymore. The images of Jack so pale and lifeless, along with the screams of all those who died that night still echo in her ears. She is haunted by everything that happened that night and she can't stand laying there any longer. She reaches for the crutch that Peter had used while recovering from his injury and she props herself up

Rose limps down the stairs to the kitchen, to her surprise a light is on and she smells something cooking. Rose comes around the corner to find Emma sitting at the table reading some papers. She also has a steaming mug of either coffee or tea or some kind of hot beverage.

"Can't sleep either huh?" Emma asks, hardly looking up from the papers.

"Not really," Rose says as she hobbles to a chair.

"Would you like some warm milk?" Emma asks. "My mom used to always make that for me when I couldn't sleep."

"If it's not too much trouble," Rose shrugs.

"It's never too much trouble Rose, especially with your ankle," Emma says.

Emma goes to the kettle and pours in some more milk before putting it on the stove.

"What part of the journey did you dream about?" Emma asks.

"What?" Rose says.

"What part of _Titanic_ did you dream about?" Emma clarifies.

"Jack and I in the cargo hold where we uh…" Rose turns red, realizing that she never shared what happened to her and Jack after the wedding ceremony.

Emma smiles, "Made love?"

"How did you?" Rose gasps.

"It's not that hard to figure out due to the fact that you're about a month into your pregnancy and you and Jack only just reunited a week ago, so I assumed that something happened when we weren't around."

Rose flushes even redder. "It's not my proudest moment…"

"But it should be Rose, it's the most intimate time two people can have in their lives and it is often how a couple expresses their love for one another. Plus, you're carrying new life in a time of death, but what happened in the dream?" Emma asks, taking the kettle off as it begins to whistle.

"Well, we were… kissing and then the cargo hold and car suddenly got very cold that we could see our breaths. I was shivering and Jack was so cold. Water suddenly started pouring into the hold and we were trapped. I tried to hang onto Jack, but he was so cold and pale that he looked like a corpse. Then we were clinging to that door in the ocean. There was no boat and people were screaming and drowning next to us. And then Jack's hands slipped from mine and he sank into the dark depths of the ocean…"

Rose is shaking and tears are on the edges of her eyes now. Emma goes and grabs a blanket from the living room and puts it over Rose's shoulders and serves her the milk. She then sits down next to her.

"I wish I could tell you that it was just a dream and it didn't actually happen," Emma says in a soft voice. "But then I'd be lying"

"What do you mean?" Rose asks, taking a sip of the milk. The warmth of the beverage soothes Rose just a little bit, but not a lot.

"Well, the nights leading up to the disaster I was having bad dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" Rose asks.

"Sinking ship dreams," Emma replies, she too shudders. "It started the night before we boarded and I had this awful nightmare that I was swimming in the cold water, clinging to wreckage and watched a brightly lit ship slowly slip under the surface. When the power was cut on board, the ship broke in half and slowly slipped beneath the waves."

Rose shudders. Emma's dream eerily matched what actually happened to her and the _Titanic_. She and Jack were there, clinging to the stern as the ship broke in two before their very eyes.

"I thought it was just my brain stressing out by the fact that my parents were gone and I had a lot to deal with back at home, but when I got on board, they just kept getting worse."

Emma takes a sip of her drink to soothe her nerves.

"I had another dream that Peter, Sybil and I were out on the ship, under hundreds of stars. Peter told me I was beautiful and then all of a sudden a massive storm arose. All the lights on the ship went out and Peter vanished from my sight. I tried to find Sybil and I watched as she crawled to the edge of the ship and was swallowed up by the water. I could only hear her screams and then a massive wave showed me my reflection, but the face was demonic and it kept laughing. I went under the water and I couldn't break the surface. I watched the ship go down and break in two. I couldn't breathe and I was pulled down by the suction of the ship."

Rose puts her hand on her mouth, still very shocked by all this, it was as if Emma could see the future.

"Every single night I was on _Titanic_ ; I had dreams of the ship going down. I felt helpless. I knew that dreams often have meanings, but if I told anyone, they'd think I was crazy. Another dream I had almost come true when I was thrown deeper into the ship, while the passageway was filling with water, but unlike the nightmare, I managed to escape…"

Rose reaches over and pats Emma sympathetically.

"I knew something bad would happen. The dreams just kept getting worse. I couldn't explain it away any longer to stress or grief. I had that gut feeling that disaster would follow us and…I was right."

Emma takes a sip of her milk again. Rose does the same.

"I still have them now; tonight's was when I was under the lifeboat and the dark water eventually swallowed me up and drowned me."

Emma wipes some tears from her eyes. The fear she felt then is the same as the fear she feels now.

"I know that not everything in the nightmares came true, but they still haunt you. I actually feel…guilty. It's as if I could've done something to stop the disaster. If I had said something, not as many people would've died."

Rose shakes her head. "There's nothing you could've done Emma. None of us could've prevented what happened. It was… a series of mistakes…mistakes that had consequences…"

"To put it lightly," Emma groans. "At least we're all here, we survived and we're together."

The girls sit in silence for awhile, letting their milk get cold as they listen to the sounds of the night. Both are shaken from their nightmares and the disaster in general. They think about how lucky they are and that if one of any of their circumstances had been different, they would've likely perished and none of them would be here, in a warm home, safe and sound.

"I like to think that these dreams are our minds ways of working through the tragedy and guilt of surviving," Emma says softly. "We re-live the moments and wonder what might've been…"

Rose nods. "Just memories that we can never forget,"

"Right," Emma says. "And I think the only way to get passed these memories is to create new ones, happier ones. We do have a lot to look forward to." Emma reaches over and pats Rose's stomach. "You guys have a baby on the way, Sybil will be walking soon, Little Thomas will be turning four in a month or so, Peter and I getting married,"

"MARRIED" Rose gasps, she nearly drops her mug on the table.

"Peter and I have been talking about it and we think it'd be best if we got re-married. We never really signed a license and most of the witnesses are gone… so we'd like to have a sort of do-over, reaffirm our vows and be 'officially' married in the eyes of the law. This will be good for the company and Sybil will grow up in a secure family."

Rose's eyes go wide but then she smiles. "When are you going to do it?"

"We haven't planned that far ahead yet," Emma says. "What about you and Jack?"

Rose swallows. "W-well, we haven't really thought about…marriage. I mean we've only known each other for so long and Jack doesn't have a steady job or…"

"It's okay," Emma interrupts. "I was just asking because I see the way you two look at each other, that's real love, it reminds me of Peter and me, or my parents. It's the kind of love that is pure and should be celebrated."

Rose nods, tears in her eyes. She really did want to marry Jack…someday, but they could take their time. Her previous engagement to Cal was so fast and so superficial, she wanted to embrace every moment she had with Jack, make each one count. Of course, she didn't want their baby to be born out of wedlock either, but they still had a few months to decide.

"I'm sure it will happen…" Emma says. "When you're both ready."

Rose smiles again and then yawns. Emma does the same.

"I think it's time to hit the hay," Emma says. "I want to get as much sleep as possibly before Sybil wakes me up for food and plus I've got a meeting tomorrow at the office."

"It never ceases to amaze me that you own and run a company," Rose shakes her head in disbelief. "You're a role model to women everywhere."

"It certainly wasn't by choice," Emma says. "But I'm glad I'm respecting my father's wishes."

Rose smiles and both girls put their mugs in the sink before heading back upstairs. They hug once before going into their separate rooms.

"Good night Rose," Emma whispers.

"Good night Emma," Rose replies.

"Have pleasant dreams."

Rose limps back to the bed and curls up next to Jack, wrapping her arms around his sleeping form. She shuts her eyes and thinks about what it would be like to marry Jack. Be Mrs. Dawson and raise a family with him.

She falls into a happy sleep.


	47. Chapter 46: First Attempt at Motherhood

Chapter 46: First Attempt at Motherhood

"Rose are you sure you don't want me to stay home?" Emma asks.

Rose shakes her head and pats her stomach. "I'm going to be a mother in eight months, Emma, I need to practice."

"Okay…" Emma says, reluctant to let Rose take care of Sybil all day. It's not that she didn't trust Rose; the woman adored Sybil and Emma can never thank Rose enough for keeping Sybil safe during the "incident" on the ship, but Rose had no experience around children at all. In fact, when she first held Sybil, she struggled to hold her sister properly. But then again, Rose did need the practice and since her ankle was healing, there's no reason for both her and Peter to stay at home. The office was getting busier now as the summer approached and both of them were needed.

Jack was also preparing to head out to find himself some work. He and Rose had stayed home the past week or so to watch Sybil and make sure Rose's ankle healed properly. Holly had also stayed a few more days with Thomas to give assistance, but this would be the first time Rose would be home alone with the child. Now, Jack was trying to find employment. Emma had offered him a job at the office, but he politely turned her down.

"No thanks," he said. "I need to be able to support Rose and my family, I also want to feel like I earned my job, not being influenced by my friends."

Emma left it at that. She knew all men had this ego thing where they had to feel like they earned their jobs and were capable of taking care of the women in their life. Peter had the same thing once, but he eventually got over it when he worked his way into her father's company and earned his spot. Emma too was working hard to receive the respect she deserved as the owner of the office, she had yet to hear about the classes she'd signed up for a couple weeks back.

"Alright, Rose, everything that needs to be done in the list on the counter," Emma explains. "Don't worry about dinner, Peter and I will be home by then, just make sure Sybil doesn't fall down the stairs or anything like that."

"I won't don't you worry," Rose says. Feeling confident as ever. She was finally going to put those housekeeping skills she'd learned from Wendy to good use. She was excited, feeling that she needed this chance to prove to herself and the others that she wasn't just some spoiled rich girl, that she could take care of herself and another human being.

"Okay," Emma says. "But call the office if anything goes wrong." She hands Sybil to Rose, who has to adjust her arms to hold the child properly. Emma gives a forced smile before gathering some papers. Peter kisses Sybil and then heads out to start the car. Emma kisses her sister and follows him.

Jack is dressed in clean clothing, something he borrowed from Peter to look presentable for his interviews. He was a little uncomfortable, but he knew he had to get a job to support his growing family.

"Have a good day," Jack says, kissing Rose on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too, good luck," Rose smiles. She felt so normal, like a regular woman, watching her husband go off to work…or soon to be husband. She knew Jack would have no problem finding a job, he was so likable that anyone would be a fool for not hiring him.

Jack smiles once more before shutting the door and going to the awaiting car.

Once the car was out of sight, Rose goes to the kitchen to look at the list. Emma left a list of instructions of Rose could do for the day and how to care for Sybil. The first suggestion was to wash the breakfast dishes. Rose remembered how Wendy and the cook in her house at Philadelphia did it.

She puts Sybil in her high chair and fills the sink with water and soap. She finds a sponge and begins to scrub the dishes. Her good mood makes her feel so happy. She stacks the dishes on a towel until she hears Sybil screech, most likely for attention. Rose is so surprised that she drops a cup on the floor, smashing it into a million pieces. The noise frightens Sybil and she begins to wail. Rose steps around the broken glass and goes to comfort the child. She removes Sybil from the area and puts her in her crib to keep her safe. The child keeps wailing until Rose distracts her with a teddy bear.

With Sybil calm for the moment, Rose goes back and searches the closet in the kitchen until she finds the dustpan and broom. She sweeps up the mess carefully and throws it away. She shrugs it off as a simple accident, she's still in good spirits.

As she finishes the dishes, Sybil begins to wail again. Rose hated the sound so much, the child felt so helpless. Rose comes up and picks the child up again. Sybil continues to cry as Rose tries to calm her.

She took the sobbing child down to the list that Emma left. She left suggestions as to why Sybil would be crying. She had just eaten so she wasn't hungry, but perhaps she was wet. Rose read the instructions on how to change Sybil.

She goes up and lays the squirming tot on the changing table. She eventually figures out how to change her diaper, but Sybil continues to wiggle, making it difficult. More than once, Rose spills the baby powder all over her and the infant. This causes quite the mess and Sybil to sneeze and for the powder to stick to her teary face. Rose does her best to wipe the mess from her face.

Once clean, Sybil calms down a bit and begins sucking on her fist. Rose goes back to the list.

Emma suggested that Rose do some gardening in the back. It was almost June and Emma had barely touched the garden, the plants were most likely growing wildly. Rose found some old gardening clothes in Emma's drawer and slips into them. She decides that Sybil could do with some fresh air too and prepares the child to go outside.

Rose finds the gardening tools in the shed as well as a big hat for her to wear. She lays a blanket out on the lawn and puts Sybil down on it. She gives the child toys to play with and then sits in the dewy grass. Emma's list suggests that she try to pull some weeds and water the plants if possible. The problem was that Rose didn't know what weeds looked like. She had never done gardening in her life.

She wonders what are weeds and what are plants. She spends some time looking through the plant life and deciding what should be removed.

Eventually, she figures out what should stay and what should go, mostly learning by accidentally uprooting from firmly planted vegetation. She learns that one cannot just pull the top out of sight on the lawn, but pull everything up, including the roots. It's harder than it looks, she pulls the weeds up as hard as she can, spraying herself with dirt and the sun beating down on her.

By the time the sun is high in the sky, indicating noon, Rose is sweating and tired. She has a pile of unwanted weeds by her side, her hands are hurting and dirty. The garden looks a little better, but not much. She sighs to herself. Wendy had never taught her how to garden, so it was only her first time.

Rose sees a giant weed and goes to pull it up. Immediately, she pulls her hand back as the plant had pricked her and it had a very deep root. She sucks on the wound and wonders how she'll pull it up. Without thinking, she uses both her hands and pulls it up, enduring the pain as she goes. She puts all her strength into pulling it up.

By the end, both her hands are bleeding and her back aches slightly. Rose decides to go wash her hands and water the plants. She sees that Sybil is fine, playing quietly so she goes in and cleans her hands up. She found a bucket in the garden shed and used that to haul water out and dump it on the vegetation.

When the entire backyard is watered, Rose goes to the front and does the same. When she comes back, she's tired, hot and hungry. She turns to bring Sybil inside.

"Oh, Sybil!" Rose gasps.

The tiny child had managed to squirm her way off the blanket was now digging in the mud. Some of the water from the bucket had run down from the garden towards the child, creating mud in front of her, the perfect ingredient for the child to make a mess. Sybil had smeared the mud everywhere, her face, her hands, her clothes, her toys, even in her hair.

Rose picks the child up and brings her inside.

She knows that Sybil will have to be bathed now. She places Sybil in her highchair and decides that since Sybil was such a messy eater, it was better to feed the child now and then clean her. She checks the instructions on how to make Sybil some lunch. It would mostly be soft foods as she was teething.

She boils some carrots and then mashes them with a spoon until they're nice and soft. She brings them over to Sybil, who is just being fussy now.

"Okay Sybil, have something to eat," Rose says gently. She offers the baby a spoonful.

Sybil turns her head away and screeches. Rose tries again, this time, it touches Sybil's mouth, but she continues to screech. Rose moans and tries again. The cycle repeats until Rose is losing patience. No matter how hard she tries, Sybil won't eat. Rose then remembers that Emma often lets Sybil feed herself, she gave the child the spoon and bowl.

Rose is tired and in need of a drink. She decides to let Sybil eat herself, while she fed her unborn baby. She finds some ingredients in the fridge and makes herself a simple sandwich and some milk. She sits down at the table and looks for something to read. She finds a discarded book and begins to read it.

The story describes a woman who wants to marry the love of her life, but her current jealous lover will not allow it. The woman attempts to flee on horseback into the woods to escape her jealous lover, but the king's men are after her. If felt a lot like Rose's life, right down to the jealousy, but fortunately her story had a happy ending. She and Jack were together now. They could get married anytime soon. It had always been her dream, then they could travel until the baby was born and then have a comfortable life together.

When she looks up, Sybil has made a big mess with her food but seems to be a bit calmer. Rose knows now that she can clean the child before putting her down for a nap.

Rose begins to fill the bathtub with warm water when the phone rings. She goes with Sybil to answer it. This is about the time that Sybil begins to cry. Rose does her best to try and answer the phone but it's hard to hear with an infant wailing. She struggles to listen to the caller and take a message. In the end, she then hangs up and tries to calm Sybil when she hears a dripping noise.

"Oh no!" Rose says. She rushes to the bathroom to the bathtub overflowing. She nearly slips as she makes her way to the tub to shut off the water.

She feels herself on the verge of tears. Sybil is still carrying on and now the bathroom is a mess.

Rose takes a deep breath and calms herself. She drains the tub just enough and then sticks Sybil in it. She kneels down in the puddles, soaking her to the bone, fortunately, it was warm water, to clean the girl. Sybil wails a little less as Rose uses the soap to clean the child. She wipes off the carrot and dirt, doing her very best. Sybil thrashes around in anger, clearly not wanting to be in the water, making Rose wetter than she already was. In the end, Rose's head is pounding and she sighs. She dries Sybil and puts her into cleaner clothes. She takes the child to her crib, hoping some sleep will calm her down. She gives the child some toys and puts a blanket on top of her. She turns the lights off, knowing that this would put herself to sleep.

However, Sybil wails and refuses to sleep. Rose closes the nursery door and leaves for a few minutes to gather her bearings, all the while Sybil's cries echoing through the house. Rose hopes that the child will cry herself to sleep.

She goes back to the bathroom and goes in search of a mop. She tries to clean up the puddles, the only problem is the dirt from her clothing and Sybil's have mixed. Creating even more of a mess. Rose sighs in frustration. She takes Sybil's clothing and finds the instructions for washing them. She also takes her own clothes as well as Jack's, Emma's and Peter's and she begins to wash them. She remembers her lessons with Wendy on how to clean clothes properly and she scrubs them with a washboard and suds, feeling a little better now, and yet Sybil continues to cry. Rose brings the wet clothes outside and hangs them on a line to dry before going back to the child. Her mind fills with worries. What if Sybil is unwell? What if she hurt herself and I didn't know it?

When she enters the room, Sybil is red in the face and splotchy from crying so much. She's rumpled her covers and thrown her toys away. Rose picks Sybil up.

"Come on, Sybil, no one can cry for this long. It's okay, I'm here now." Rose checks for a fever and the diaper, she's clean, but yet she continues to cry.

Rose tries walking her up and down the hall, ignoring the mess in the bathroom, rocking and trying to sing to the baby.

"Hush my child…" she says. She can hardly hear herself over the infant's wails.

After what feels like hours, Rose assumes that she might be hungry again. She finds Emma's instructions for making milk, perhaps that's what Sybil needs. She puts the kettle on. She decides that she could start cooking dinner. Jack, Peter, and Emma would be home soon and despite the mishaps, she could show off her cooking skills.

Rose puts a pot of water on and then chops up some vegetables. She decides to make the stew that she'd help Wendy prepare less than a month before. Sybil cries a little less but is still miserable.

When she looks up from her stew preparations, she notices the dark storm clouds outside.

"Oh no, the laundry!" Rose cries out. She puts Sybil in her chair and rushes to get the clothes. She's too late however as it begins to pour. Rose drags the wet things inside, once again soaked to the bone. She leaves the laundry on a chair as the thunder scares Sybil once again.

The kitchen is suddenly filled with smoke and something burning fills the room.

"THE STEW!' Rose shouts. "THE MILK!"

The smell of burning milk fills the air. Sybil's cries get more desperate. Rose struggles to turn off the stove, with the baby in her arms.

The door suddenly slams.

"Rose!" Jack gasps when he sees the scene in front of him. He coughs at the smoke. "Rose, are you okay?"

"I am, but Sybil…"

"What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know!" Rose wails. She's in tears as well. She's finally reached her breaking point. "She won't stop crying."

"Here," Jack says, taking Sybil from her. He looks at the list and then goes to the cupboard. He finds vanilla extract. He puts a few drops on his finger and then spreads it on Sybil's gums. Immediately, the baby settles down. She begins to yawn eventually falls asleep.

"How did you do that?" Rose asks in surprise.

"It's a trick my mom used when I was little. She said a little vanilla helps a teething baby."

Rose sighs in relief and tries to wipe the tears from her eyes. She felt utterly mortified, clearly, she was bad at this job. Jack opens the window to let the smoke out as the rain starts to clear up. He takes Sybil upstairs to put her to bed. Rose sits on the floor and sobs.

"Rose," Jack says, coming back into the room. "Rose, are you okay?"

Rose shakes her head and curls up into a ball. The entire day was a disaster. She should've known that she couldn't take care of herself, let alone a child. Everything seemed to go wrong at every turn and she was the cause of it all. She felt like an utter failure. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this life after all…maybe…

The thought of returning to her old life made her cry harder.

Jack puts his arms around her and cradles her.

"It's okay, Rose it's okay. This happens all the time."

"Not to you," Rose mumbles. "I thought I could do it myself but I can't…I just can't Jack. I'm a total failure…"

"No, you're not. This takes a lot of practice; it doesn't come all at once. You don't think my mother burned food or left the laundry out in the rain?"

Jack looks around at the kitchen, at the mess in general.

"You did okay overall," he says, trying to look on the brighter side. "Maybe because you were trying to do everything at once…let's take it one step at a time. Emma and Peter won't be home till later so we have time to clean up."

Rose sniffs and wipes away a few tears. She gets up and takes the kettle and stew disaster from the stove. She begins rinsing out everything. Jack shows her the trick that Fabrizio taught him to get off burnt food. Afterward, Jack helps Rose find some soap and they mop up the bathroom together. They hang all the laundry around the house and build up a fire to bring in some warmth to speed up the drying, a trick Jack's mom had taught him for when she did laundry in winter. When Sybil woke up again, this time, Rose stays with the kettle and boiled her milk to the perfect temperature. Jack took over the cooking, he made a simple meal of chicken and rice, putting the leftovers away for Emma and Peter.

Rose sits down on the couch exhausted, Sybil sitting on the floor, playing with blocks. Jack wipes his hands and then comes to join her.

Rose leans her head into Jack's shoulder.

"I'm going to be a terrible mother," she sighs.

"Rose, don't say that." Jack snaps. "Motherhood is not easy; you won't get it immediately. You don't think my mother instantly became a mother. She had to learn to heat the milk right, to cook what dish at what temperature and mop the kitchen floor."

Rose sighs. "I guess I never had much of a role model growing up. I was always cared for by nannies, my mother never showed her face in the nursery and never set an example for me."

"Exactly…" Jack says. "Besides, it'll be different when it's our baby. I don't know how, but my mother said it always is. You'll catch on I'm sure."

Rose leans next to Jack and watches the girl on the floor.

"The best part is…" Jack adds. "You'll never love anything more than the child you carry now…"

Rose smiles. "I'm not so sure about that…" She leans over and kisses Jack deeply. "I'd say I love you more…"

Jack smiles and pulls Rose in for a long hug.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you…I got a job."

Rose squirms out of Jack's arms to look at him.

"Are you serious?" she gasps.

"Yes, I'm going to be working at the police station, as a sketch artist to do profiles of suspects and even draw up crime scenes as described by police officers. The pay is seven dollars a week, but I might get more if I do a good job."

Rose feels happy tears come to her eyes. "Oh Jack that's wonderful!" she cries and leaps into his arms. "I'm so happy for you."

Jack was pretty proud of himself. He was doing something that he loved and he was putting his talent to good use. It wasn't a lot of money, but at least he could provide for Rose and their child.

The two embrace and just lay on the couch until Rose notices something. Sybil has managed to get on all fours and slowly but surely, she begins propelling herself forward.

"Oh, Jack look!" Rose gasps. "She's crawling!"

Sybil begins moving around, slowly at first. She squeals, clearly pleased with herself at accomplishing the movement, something that she'd long to be able to do since _Titanic._

Rose begins to cry again, not just out of happiness, but out of the sheer joy of watching a child enter another stage of her life. The miracle and innocence of a child learning and growing. Rose realizes then and there, that she could be a good mother, a great one even, to go through the crying and messes that come along with it if the reward was to watch a child grow.

Rose raises Sybil above her head and kisses her. The little one smiles and squeals in delight. Jack brings over a few toys and entertains Sybil. Rose knew then that they would be good parents if she and Jack worked as a team. She would not be alone, they would be together forever and give the child she was carrying a wonderful life. She would learn from her mother's mistakes and give the love and care that their baby would need.

When Peter and Emma get home, they find all three of them fast asleep on the couch.


	48. Chapter 47: Concealed in Smoke

Chapter 47: Concealed in Smoke

Caledon stands at the train station, waiting for the latest engine to pull in and let out its white thick steam. He checks his pocket watch before the distinct warning whistle and the screeching of breaks against polished rails as the first train from Philadelphia stops in front of him.

The white steam arises from the engine and covers Mr. Hockley from head to toe, masking his own contempt and stressed face. Only his silhouette is visible, giving him an almost sinister appearance. He steps back as many patrons begin to exit the passenger cars, on their way to who knows where, but Caledon does not move for them any further. As the steam evaporates, he waits to find two figures whom he must greet and most likely comfort.

A woman with fiery red hair pulled back into a tight bun and done up with a very fancy hat steps down, followed by her maid, who carries several small carry-on bags. The woman in the hat holds a white handkerchief wadded up in her hands, contrasting her rather dark outfit and gloves. She looks around frantically until she spots Mr. Hockley.

She hurries frantically towards him.

"Mr. Hockley," Ruth says. "Thank you for the tickets, with all the wedding planning and the uh…disappearance as well as having to hire a new maid, we couldn't afford them."

"Not at all Mrs. DeWitt Bukater," Cal says, he politely takes her hand and kisses it.

"Please, call me Ruth," the mother says. She turns to the maid. "Sally, make sure you get all of the bags."

The maid nods. "Yes ma' me, Of course," she says obediently

Cal offers his arm out to a very frail Ruth Bukater. The red eyes indicate how much Ruth has been crying and the dark circles under her eyes show the lack of sleep. Unsurprising for sure as her daughter is missing, right before both he and her daughter are to be married. Caledon had already informed the authorities, but since Rose was only 17, her mother had to initiate the search.

The two of them walk together through the busy platform, followed by the maid, struggling with the bags.

"I wasn't sure how long we would be staying so I made sure to pack as much as possible," Ruth explains. "Of course, weather in New York can always be unpredictable so I was sure to pack some sweaters and…"

Cal is only half listening to what Ruth is saying. He is lost in his own thoughts. They are mostly of anger, but some of the concern. Rose has vanished completely and in such a big city, it's not hard to do. He knew that his father would soon find out about the disappearance and interrogate him about why the wedding has been postponed once again. Cal knew that in order to one day inherit his father's company, he must be married and provide an heir.

His mind continues to wander as he escorts Ruth and the maid to his awaiting car. His new manservant, William Riptide waits at the trunk to assist the maid with the bags. Cal opens the car door for Ruth and then climbs into the front seat.

As Riptide pulls off into the street, heading towards the police station, Cal's mind wanders again. He goes back to where Rose might be at this moment. Was she a prostitute in the streets? Was she living under a bridge? Had she found some way to support herself?

He suddenly wonders.

Could _he_ have survived?! It seemed impossible, only Rose was brought aboard the lifeboat, at least… as far as he knew. He thought the man had been buried at sea or had frozen solid and gone down with the ship. Still…there was a slim possibility that he could've lived. Or what about the two brats that he put bullets in. The infant most likely survived, but both the boy and the girl were likely long dead. The one he shot on the stern would've bled out before the ship even hit the bottom and the other one went over the side into the water, he saw it himself. He still couldn't shake the feeling that one of them could've made it, after all, only the girl had met up with Rose and the gutter rat.

He suddenly remembered the piece of documentation he had found in the girl's room. The one about her dead father. At least he had the name, and he could get the police to search the family just in case.

The car pulls up in front of the police station.

"Riptide, please bring Mrs. Bukater's things and her maid to my apartment and then meet us back here," Cal orders.

"Yes sir," Riptide says as Ruth climbs out of the back seat.

Riptide was basically like Lovejoy, he did things without question and merely remained silent when need be. Cal was slightly sad to lose his trusty manservant in the disaster, after all, the man had kept him safe and was loyal to the very end. Cal was deciding to get a proper grave and monument made in Lovejoy's honour but had yet to submit the order.

Cal escorts Ruth into the busy police station, many men and a few women are rushing around, pulling files off desks, escorting suspects, answering phones for tips to crimes and doing other "police" related tasks. It reminded Cal of his own office, which he was anxious to get back to after Ruth had made the report.

Cal goes to the head secretary, who sits at her desk typing a report.

"We must speak with the chief of police," he says.

"I'm sorry he is…" the woman begins to say.

"We must see him, this is an emergency," Ruth insists.

"I'm sorry ma' me, but this is New York and there are many emergencies…"

"Perhaps you don't know who I am," Cal leans down to be eye to eye with the woman. How women were even allowed jobs anyways was beyond him. "But I am Caledon Hockley and my father's business helped pay for this police station and I demand that we see the chief as soon as possible. You see this woman has lost her daughter and this daughter also happens to be my fiancée so if you do not put us through to the chief of police, I will have you fired so quickly, you won't even have time to plead your case."

The woman swallows hard. "Y-yes sir, right this way,"

Ruth and Cal follow the woman, weaving through desks and past filing cabinets, as well as several officers, either on their break or going back to work. Ruth does her best to not touch anything as the place is hardly ideal and rather filthy, but she must do it for the sake of Rose. They climb a staircase to the third floor, which is much quieter, lined with offices with names on them for detectives, private eyes, and the major supervisors.

The secretary knocks on the door that says _Police Chief._

"What do you want?" a voice barks from behind the glass.

"Mr. Hockley to see you, Sir, I am sorry but he insists on it being an emergency."

"Alright, let him in."

The secretary opens the door for the two people and then closes the door behind her. The chief of police is a gruff man, about 40 or so with a thick head of hair with a beard to match with flecks of gray coming, indicating his age or stress. He looks rather tired himself, heavy bags under his eyes and a sweaty brow. Clearly, he has been working all night and is rather frazzled as a result. He sits at his desk, a hand full of files in one hand and a cigar in the other. His desk is a mess, as well as his office. His certificate of achievements hangs on a rather blank wall and his belt hangs on a coat rack.

"Make it fast Hockley, I have a homicide in Brooklyn," the chief says.

"This will be fast, this is Mrs. DeWitt Bukater and she's the mother of our missing woman, Rose DeWitt Bukater."

"I can figure that out myself Hockley," the chief grumbles. "You'll have to file a report with the Missing Person's Department and we'll send out some officers."

"I-I do not think you understand sir," Ruth says. "I do not want any publicity, Mr. Hockley and I are very high up in class and such a story would be highly scandalous."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" the chief mumbles. "If no one is looking for your daughter, she won't be found."

"Don't you have a private investigation unit?" Cal asks.

"Yeah, but it takes awhile before he can get your case."

"How long?" Ruth asks.

"I estimate two weeks."

"TWO WEEKS!" Ruth gasps. She suddenly feels very faint and begins to have tears flood her eyes. "Oh my baby girl," She weeps into her handkerchief. The pain of her daughter missing had taken its toll on Ruth. She ate very little, she hardly slept and her entire world was thrown into chaos because of it. She had done her best to start a search for her daughter, but to wait two weeks would be torture…hell even.

The chief looks at the woman but is hardly moved. He seen many women come through, mothers, sisters, cousins and all put on a very sad story. He has become numb to the tears, he does care about giving these families closure, but there is nothing they can really do. Time was never on their side.

Cal tries to comfort Ruth. He too wanted Rose to be found as soon as possible, but for different reasons. He then reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his checkbook.

"How much will it take to get the case bumped up?"

"How should I know? You should ask the investigator. Take the stairs up and three doors to the left."

"Thank you, sir," Cal says and leads a sobbing Ruth from the room.

They walk back down the hall to the staircase and up another level. This hallway had very few rooms, most of them reading Private Investigations, but no names. Cal and Ruth go three doors down and come to an unmarked door. With reluctance they knock.

"Come in," a voice says.

Cal opens the door to another crowded room, except the lights are mostly out and there is smoke rising from behind a large wooden desk. Filing cabinets line the walls and a bookshelf with many thick volumes stare down at the two individuals from behind the desk. The man sitting behind the desk with his feet up has his head engulfed in the smoke of a cigar, so much so that neither Cal nor Ruth can see his face. There is a glass of ice and whiskey beside him as well as several case files laying next to his thick boots.

"Shut the door," The voice says.

Cal does so. Both of them stand awkwardly for a brief moment.

"Who do you need me to find?"

"M-My daughter," Ruth says.

"And you don't want publicity?"

"That would be preferable," Cal answers.

The man puffs out another round of smoke, still able to conceal his identity.

"I want three hundred a week, plus extra," the man says.

"D-Does this mean you w-will h-help us?" Ruth asks, wiping away the last of her tears, her eyes filling with hope.

"You got the cash, then I've got a case," the man says.

Ruth smiles, practically laughing as she bursts into happy tears.

"Oh, thank you, Sir! OH THANK YOU!"

"My pleasure, now…" the man opens up an empty file and pulls out his fountain pen. "Tell me all about your daughter…"


	49. Chapter 48: First Day on The Job

Chapter 48: First Day on The Job

"I love you," Jack says, kissing Rose.

"I love you too," Rose smiles.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Jack asks with a grin.

"I'll be fine," Rose says, she holds Sybil expertly. "Have a good first day."

Jack kisses Rose once more before grabbing his portfolio and heading out to the waiting car.

Peter pulls out of the driveway.

"Excited?" Emma asks Jack.

"Yeah," Jack says. "And nervous."

"Don't be," Emma says with a smile. "You're a great person, everyone will like you."

"You sure?" Jack asks.

Emma gives him a look. "You got a first class girl to fall in love with you and run away with you, I think you're okay."

Jack smiles and takes out a cigarette.

"Didn't I tell you those things can kill you?" Emma snaps. "You should really quit that Jack, it's not good for you or the people around you."

"Sorry 'Mother'" Jack teases.

"Okay if you insist on doing that, just aim it out the window," Emma says.

"Fine," Jack says. He and Emma were almost like brother and sister, caring deeply for each other and yet arguing like little children. This made Jack feel fine because he never had any siblings growing up, so he felt more like he had a family as he and Rose grew closer to Peter and Emma.

He lights it up and stares out at the city landscape. The morning light is peeking up over some of the buildings, casting a bright glow and sharp shadows onto the street. Some people are already out and about in the neighbourhood; several men are walking towards the train station in their business suits, children are running down the street on their way to school and quite a few women are out watering their gardens. Jack wishes he could be at home with Rose and their baby, but he needed the money more than anything. Jack breathes some smoke out the window and embraces the warm morning air.

Peter pulls up to the police station.

"Stay safe," Peter jokes.

"Thanks, I'll take the bus home."

"Good idea," Emma says. "We might be home late. Good luck."

Jack walks up the large stone steps of the station, his stomach turning several times. He opens the door into a busy and very messy station. The noise overwhelms him at first and several officers rush past him, most likely getting a call, while phones ring off the hook for tips for detectives. Paperwork is piled high on desks and several suspects sit on wooden benches, looking either ashamed or indifferent.

Jack walks up to the front desk. A secretary looks up at him.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Jack Dawson, I'm the new sketch artist."

"Oh yes, let me just call over Mr. Anderson."

The woman picks up the phone and practically has to scream into the mouthpiece over the noise.

A handsome man, about 30 or so comes through the chaos, dressed in a dark uniform, buttoned up to his neck. His chest is puffed out, clearly proud of being able to don the uniform of the law. He carries his hat under his arm. He has gray eyes and thick black hair that it combed to perfection.

"Welcome," the man says and offers his hand. "Welcome to the force, my name is Officer Joel Anderson."

"Jack Dawson," Jack says, shaking the man's hand.

"Well, we're all looking forward to having a new artist on the force, the last one we had just retired a month ago, we can't tell you how happy we are that you came along."

Jack nods and follows Joel as he guides Jack through the chaos of the office, weaving through desks and around filing cabinets.

"Now your job I consider one of the hardest ones, you only have eyewitness testimony to go off of to create composite sketches of wanted men."

"I'm used to working from scratch," Jack says earnestly.

"Good, good," Joel says as they climb the stairs to the second level. The two men go a down a long corridor, lined with office doors with different names on them. They go to the end of the hall.

"This is where you'll be working," Joel says.

What Jack sees looks almost like an art studio. The room is fairly small, with a desk and chair, a small bookcase and a window. There is also and easel, a stack of blank paper and a cup filled with pencils. Jack's heart beat excitedly. He finally felt like he had a studio of his own, yes, it was small, but he was able to use his talents for the benefit of others. All he ever needed was paper, a pencil, and his imagination. He couldn't ask for more.

"So you'll have people coming in and out all day, mostly escorted by officers. You also might have more than one. There's a series of questions on the desk you should ask the witness. Just keep your demeanor calm. There will be some sad folks you'll be interviewing, just try to remain professional. Once you've got a sketch completed, just hand it over to the supervising officer and he'll process it. It's a pretty easy job. There might be a lot of waiting around too."

"Thank you, Officer Anderson," Jack says.

"Call me Joel, just not in front of the witnesses."

"Yes sir," Jack nods.

"I'll bring up the first witness in a few minutes, make yourself comfortable, but be ready."

"Yes sir," Jack says.

"Good luck to you buddy," Joel says before leaving the room.

Now alone, Jack sits down behind the desk, putting his portfolio down beside him. He feels slightly out of place, but once he gets a pencil in his hand, he feels better. He sharpens a few of them and puts some blank pieces of paper in front of him. He decides to just draw some rough sketches, to practice before his first witness arrives.

He decides to sketch Rose, completely from memory, which is fairly easy since he saw her this morning. His hand works masterfully over the page as he captures the bold shape of Rose's face, the beauty of her eyes and the warmth of her smile. He felt like he missed her already. He can't help but smile until there is a knock at the door. Jack puts the sheet of paper on his desk and sits up, ready to work.

The next two hours, Jack completes three sketches. One for a missing person and two criminals suspected of armed robbery. He especially felt sorry for the family who came in for the missing person, a mother, and her two sons gave a very detailed description of their missing daughter, who had vanished two nights previous. He had to stop himself from crying as the mother burst into tears multiple times during the interview. Jack did his best to comfort the woman and said he's sure his sketch will help people find her.

By lunch, Jack is emotionally exhausted. He eats his sandwich that Rose had packed for him and then goes out for a smoke. As he lights up, Joel comes out to join him.

"Need a light?" Joel asks, offering him a match.

"Thanks," Jack says with the cigarette in between his teeth.

The men stand out in the noonday sun, watching cars go past and people walk by.

"Feel pretty drained huh?" Joel asks.

"Sorry?" Jack asks.

"Pretty drained, don't worry happens to the best of us. It takes some getting used to, we get some sad folks here, turning to us as their last hope, which is true. But you look like you've been through a lot for such a young man, I'm sure this must be hard for you."

Jack simply nods. He had been through a lot in his life, but he didn't feel like sharing with Joel, at least not. He'd lost his parents at fifteen, been homeless for most of his life since then, lost his best friend and seen the worst maritime disaster in the history of the world. He, fortunately, had Rose, who was his shining light. He also had new friends who had taken them both in and treated them like family. Despite the tragedy that befell them all, they were taking slow steps to recover.

Jack notices a silver band on Joel's finger.

"You married Joel?" Jack asks.

"Five years now and we have two handsome boys and a beautiful little girl."

"That's nice," Jack says. His head began spinning when he thought about marrying Rose one day.

"You married Jack?" Joel asks.

"No…but I am courting a girl."

"What's she like?"

Jack exhales some smoke before looking up to the horizon. There are no words to describe Rose, but he had to give Joel something.

"She's the most beautiful girl in the world. When she smiles, you have to smile too. She wants you to be as happy as she is. Her eyes are so lively, like emeralds shining in the sun. Her hair is fiery and lively, much like her personality. She can be stubborn, once she gets an idea in her head you can't change it. She's caring and compassionate. She's as beautiful on the inside as she is on the out."

"You're quite the poet," Joel jokes. "You sound like one lucky man, don't ever let her go."

Jack smiles. "Don't worry I won't."

…

Meanwhile, In the office up a floor from Jack's place of work, the private investigator is looking over the details of the case. He blows out more smoke, covering most of his face and yet he is still able to read the documents in front of him.

 _Name: Rose Marie DeWitt Bukater_

 _Age: 17_

 _Date of Birth: December 6_ _th_ _, 1895_

 _Hair: Red_

 _Eyes: Green_

 _Height: 5 ft 5 inches_

 _Mother: Ruth Agnes DeWitt Bukater_

 _Father: Arthur Melvin DeWitt Bukater_

 _Fiancé: Caledon J. Hockley_

 _Lived in: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania_

 _Last seen: Margret Brown's Fundraising Party, Downtown New York, going to powder room. Wearing dark blue dress covered in silver sparkles, Tiffany's diamond flower necklace, leather blue shoes._

The private eye inhales some of the smoke and then looks at the news article that the mother brought with her from Philadelphia. It is an engagement announcement to Mr. Hockley. The woman in the photo is quite beautiful so she may have been the target of some criminal, but there was something that he remembered from is in-depth interviews with each of his clients. He sees that the woman is fairly sad in her photo, clearly not pleased to be marrying this man. No stars in her eyes, nothing. He was building his theory as he reviews his notes and thought back to the interviews.

…

 _Earlier in the month..._

"Now Mrs. Bukater, what can you tell me about your daughter. Was she happy in her life?"

"Why would you ask such a thing?!" the mother snapped. "Are you implying that I was a bad mother?!"

"Not at all, I'm just wondering if she had a motive for running away."

"She didn't run away, she was abducted!" Ruth said firmly.

"Pardon me Mrs. DeWitt Bukater, I know you are upset, but I must cover all the possibilities. and just so you know everything you say here is confidential."

After a long pause, Ruth sighed.

"Alright, if you must know Rose was not at all happy in her life…"

The detective writes down all the details as the mother goes in-depth about her life with her daughter. From her friends to the acquaintances, the man wants every connection from Ruth. Clearly, the daughter was rebellious and very upset with her life. From the problems on the _Titanic_ at a first class dinner to running back into a sinking ship to find a man she claimed to love, it was becoming clear to the private eye that Rose probably ran away. He heard about her recent behavior and how she seemed involved with wedding plans, but Ruth never knew what happened behind closed doors. To add to the mystery, the girl's lady's maid had also vanished. The private eye asked if the maid knew more about Rose than she let on. Ruth at first was in denial, but things slowly began to make sense to her. Rose and the maid were close, so perhaps there was a conspiracy between them; the maid covering for Rose's escape. Ruth also mentioned how fearful Rose had become of Caledon, that something had clearly happened between them that scared her daughter away.

The man examines something he circled in his notes, the mention of Rose's sickness. He ponders this thought as he extinguishes a cigar and pulls out another. He drinks from a glass of whiskey next to him. He then turns to his notes with Caledon.

It was very clear to the detective that Mr. Hockley was hardly the ideal husband for anyone. He was vain, self-centred and very angry. Whenever the private investigator tried to ask him about what happened on the ship and if all was well between him and his fiancée, the man became defensive and quite often snapped at his interviewer.

The detective also had a profile made up of the man Rose was "supposedly" in love with. A third-class man named Jack Dawson. What little either of the witnesses knew about him was that he was an artist, very rude and hardly ideal for Rose. Clearly Rose didn't think so. The private eye had suggested that the man may have survived the disaster, but both Ruth and Caledon put that to rest easily. His name was not on the survivor's list and he was never seen aboard the ship.

The detective moves onto the profiles he had on some of Rose's friends. Two people, not much older than Rose herself, Emma Carson and Peter Whitman, along with an infant named Sybil, the sister to Miss Carson. The trio was only ever mentioned by Hockley and the private eye suspected that the man knew more than he was letting on. Caledon had also provided documentation of the girl's recently deceased father. When asked of how he obtained this, Mr. Hockley said nothing. Hockley also made it perfectly clear that both had also perished on the ship, the exact same reasons were given. The infant, however, he neither knew nor cared.

The private investigator stands up and puts the photo of Rose and Caledon on the wall. He tapes his notes all around it and adds pieces of string to make the connections. However, next, to Jack Dawson, Emma Carson, and Peter Whitman, he puts question marks beneath them.

…

Rose has dinner on when Jack comes home. Sybil is playing on the floor and the house looks neat.

Rose turns and throws her arms around Jack.

"How was your day?" she asks.

Jack swallows hard. "Alright, everyone is really nice and I basically have my own studio for sketching."

"That's so great. I'm so happy for you. I have dinner on."

"Everything go okay today?" Jack asks.

"Very well," Rose says, she's practically dancing across the floor in joy. "I managed to clean the house and keep Sybil happy all day. I even made lemonade!"

"That's great, I'm really proud of you."

Rose begins dancing again, up on her toes and humming a tune to herself. Jack sits down and watches as she spins and twirls. He definitely wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Someone so beautiful and someone so graceful. Eventually, he gets up and puts his arms around her. Both of them dance in the kitchen. Rose's heart soars in happiness. This is how her life should be…

Soon Emma and Peter come home and they all sit down to a family meal. They talk about their day and any current news. It feels so natural and so warming. Rose tells Emma that there are several calls for about classes she signed up for. This fills Emma with hope about finally earning the respect she deserves at the office.

The four people then go out with some lemonade and sit on the porch to watch the sun go down. The warm weather made everything pleasant and they watch as the stars come out. All four of them stop for a moment and remember the night of the party on Titanic. It was such a happy time, despite the tragedy that followed. Soon, Sybil falls asleep in Emma's arms and everyone heads up to bed.

Jack snuggles with Rose as she slowly falls asleep. Jack knows without a doubt that he wants to marry this girl and raise a family with her.

"I love you…" he whispers. "To the stars and back."


	50. Chapter 49: A Lesson in Law

Chapter 49: A Lesson in Law

"Hello?"

"Hello this is Emma Carson, you called?"

"Yes ma 'me, we noticed that you signed up for classes that are strictly for male students and we wanted to know why?"

"Because I need those courses, you see I am currently the owner and manager the Carson Law Firm. Now this role was given to me due to my father's recent passing, but you should know that finishing school I attended does not provide the appropriate courses that are required for running such a prestigious company. So when I saw your advertisements claiming that you shouldn't be caught without a job, I decided to abide by your words and sign up for the courses I need."

"Ma' me with all due respect, don't you think that you should let someone else run the company?"

Emma takes in a deep breath before answering, trying to keep her temper from flaring. "My father willed that company to me and as you know going against someone's last will and testament is practically a crime."

"But you're a law firm, if you can't find a way around it, you must not be a very good firm."

"My father was a brilliant lawyer!" she practically snaps. "And AS a lawyer, he could draw up wills with his eyes shut! He could make a clause so airtight that not even a bullet could break it! His will clearly states that only his daughters, his living female heirs, would ever inherit his life's work and run it to its full success. You try breaking something that specific."

"Ma' me," the man on the other end says. "This has nothing to do with being classes that are strictly reserved for men."

"I believe that in order to fulfill my father's dying wishes, I need to be provided with the education that will allow me to run his company to its full success and you are in fact standing in the way of this."

"Ma' me we do not mean any disrespect to your father, but…"

"But nothing!" Emma says. "Either you make an exception and I will pay the necessary fees for it or we will take you to court. You should know that any judge, even in the Supreme Court will consider a last will and testament hard to get around. And I'm sure you'd rather spend your time and money teaching people instead of having your name in the papers and a large chunk of money spent on hiring lawyers. I also think the Women's Rights Organization will find this very interesting as well."

There is a long pause on the other end of the phone, but Emma knows that she's gotten her point across. She waits. She hears voices discuss the issue and several murmurs and a few sighs in defeat.

There is a sigh on the other end.

"$150 for the three law classes you signed up for and $100 for the business course, this includes the cost of textbooks. Classes will commence on the 15th of June and end with examinations on the 1st of September. The classes will take place on the College Campus in Uptown New York. Cheques should be deposited in the mail effectively and immediately by mail and registration commences on the day of classes. Any further questions, please contact the complaint branch."

"Thank you very much for your time and we'll see you in June," Emma says. She hangs up the phone.

When Emma turns around she notices the room is very quiet. Rose has been watching Emma this entire time from the living room reading a book, very impressed. She'd have made Molly Brown very proud. Jack too was watching as he sketched the family car parked in the driveway, also very impressed.

"What?" Emma asks in confusion, wondering why everyone was staring at her.

Jack smirks. "You sure you need those classes, Emma? You're pretty good at being slimy and making those clauses so tight no one can get out of them."

Emma sighs. She did basically back the school into a corner, but they left her no choice. She had a right to be educated, no matter what her gender, but she still did feel bad. She had been slimy to get what she wanted, but she didn't feel good about it. Her father had told her that sometimes in order to catch prey, you can't leave any chance of escape. Her father had admitted to her and her mother on multiple occasions that he sometimes hated being a lawyer, he sometimes had to get his hands dirty to win cases, but it doesn't mean he felt good about it. Emma knew that lawyers did get a bad reputation from time to time, but no one ever took the time to learn about how the lawyers felt. Often times, lawyers had to harden themselves in court so their opposing council didn't sense weakness and pounce on it. Any argument that didn't hold water or any councilman who put too much emotion into their work would cost time, money and their own sanity.

Emma had always admired her father for being able to balance his work and home life. He was never hardened or emotionless at home, he was kind, caring and overall a gentleman. But when he had to go to court or business meetings, some of which Emma had attended before. She would sometimes go down to her father's office or to the courthouse with her mother on shopping trips and watch him in court. It amazed her how he was able to go to a hard and stern man addressing a jury to a loving father at the drop of a hat.

As she got older, Emma did get a little frightened at one point, seeing how forceful and almost cruel her father could be in the court of law. He had spent an entire afternoon practically screaming at a witness who was most likely fabricating evidence to convict a person. He made the witness cry on a few occasions.

She shared her fears one night by the fire as her father was reading a case file and he noticed how distant she was being.

"What's wrong Emmy?" he asked, taking a sip of whiskey.

Emma looks at her feet and then told her father how scared she was of him. She felt it was silly to think such thoughts, her father would never bring his aggression home with him, but she wasn't so sure now.

Her father didn't laugh at her, he didn't scold her either for having such foolish fears, instead, he put the case file down, took off his reading glasses, put his whiskey aside and opened his arms for her to climb into. He hugged her for a long time before speaking.

"Emma, the world in which I work is a tough one, you know that. I want you to know that I also care about my work. Deeply and passionately. I've worked my whole life to get where I am, but it was mostly on pure determination, sweat, and blood. And the one thing I can't stand is letting someone use the law for their own personal gain or purely for hate. The law is not perfect, never will be, but one of the reasons I wanted to become a lawyer was that I could try and make the world a better place. Fix the law even when I could." He shut his eyes for a moment and then pinched the bridge of his nose, as he often did when he was thinking very hard. "Sometimes I'm faced with a difficult case which requires me to become vicious, hostile even, but I only do it because I know that there is injustice in the world and I'm fighting to end it. You know those fights your mom and I have once in awhile about removing the trash or finishing off the milk?"

Emma had nodded. Her parents rarely fought but when they did, they were tame compared to what she had seen in court.

"Most of those are silly things and there is no point in being angry about it. I save my temper for when there are real problems in the world and only a burning passion can keep the fires of justice lit and the wheels turning. It's why your mother and I try to teach you to control your temper because you should only ever be truly angry when something truly horrible is going on, anything else is tiny in comparison to what I see happen in the world. Discriminations towards our fellow man, starvation of children, slaying of helpless women, unjust accusations towards the innocent; I could go on all night, but I promise you one thing Emma, I will never ever bring that anger home with me and take it out on you or your mother. This is why I often have a glass a whiskey in the evenings, I wash my frustrations away, out of my mind and they no longer matter. Do you understand?"

"Yes Papa," Emma had said. She kissed her father on the cheek and then lay in his lap so he could read the evening paper to her.

This memory made Emma a little sad, thinking about how wonderful her father had been, but he had also taught her many life lessons, some that she would use to run his company.

"Maybe so," she says in response to Jack's statement. "But sometimes justice is just as sticky and you need a way to slide along."

…

A couple of weeks later, Peter drives Emma up to the college as the sun begins to set. The classes are occurring at night to avoid interference with the average work day. She kisses Peter as she heads for the door.

"Got everything you need?" Peter asks.

"Yes," Emma says.

"Books and pencils?"

"Yes."

"Have the cheques?"

"Yes."

"A snack?"

"Yes,"

"What about…"

"I sense that you are trying to keep me here, am I right council?" Emma interrupts.

"Guilty as charged," Peter smiles.

"I know you're nervous, but you know I need these in order to run the company properly."

"I know, but you alone with all those men…"

"I'll be fine, I survived a flooding hallway on a sinking ship, a gunshot to the shoulder, freezing cold temperatures and a weekend on a farm with your mother, I think I can do this."

Peter smiles and then kisses Emma before she heads into the College. As she climbs the stone steps, she begins to feel nervous, she will be the only female in her classes, but she fought and had a right to be here. She never really wanted to take legal action, but she wanted the respect that came with knowing how to run a law firm.

She goes to the registration office, handing over the cheques and gets the room numbers. Each class will last an hour, every day, except for the weekend and until September. After this, Emma will be more knowledgeable than ever before and have earned the right to own her father's business.

Emma finds her first room. She sits in the lecture hall, her pencils and books all prepared. She tries to ignore the other eyes staring at her, but she can tell some are looking at her perversely, others in confusion. She feels self-conscious and a little bit anxious, but she reminds herself that she needs this.

 _If you survived the Titanic, you can survive anything._

A wiry man with thick horn-rimmed glasses and a checked suit and tie comes in with all his supplies. He cracks his knuckles and takes in his new class. He does stop and stare at Emma briefly before moving onwards to the other faces. His glasses glint under the electric lights.

He clears his throat.

"Good evening everyone, I'm Dr. Dailey and I will be your professor for this semester. Now before we begin I must warn you that this course is extremely hard and requires undivided attention. The research and definitions will be hard and the examinations will as such so anyone who is incapable should leave this class immediately."

When he says this, he looks directly at Emma.

Her heart pounds and she can feel tears come up. She then remembers her father's lesson about using anger where there is an injustice. She knew immediately that this anger would go into her work and she would prove not just to her professor, but also to everyone around her that she was more than capable and would teach these men a lesson in law.


	51. Chapter 50: A New Lead

Chapter 50: A New Lead

"Mrs. Bukater I assure you I've gathered a few leads that I will be following up effectively and immediately."

The private investigator sits back as he listens to the worried mother at the end of the line. He blows out another round of smoke before putting his feet on the desk. He rolls his eyes as the mother continues to talk his ear off. The PI wants nothing more than to hang up and get back to his work, but this is an important case and the pay is fantastic so he must put up with some annoyances.

Once the mother has finished talking, the private eye assures her he's doing everything he can to find her daughter before hanging up. He extinguishes his cigar and looks at the board he's created.

The lovely young Rose DeWitt Bukater stares back at him from her engagement picture. A miserable frown on her face.

"Clearly, this girl does not want to be found," He murmurs to himself.

He looks at the clock, it's almost three and soon he'll be heading downtown for his whiskey on the rocks at the local bar.

He looks at the string of yarn he's connected to the maid, Wendy. Mrs. Bukater couldn't give a last name as most in service do not carry such a title, which makes his case harder. He looks at the one called Jack Dawson, again two very common names that would be hard to track down. He knows there must be a thousand Dawsons in the phone directory alone. What wasn't as common was Whitman and Carson, he knew he had a lead there. Again, the survival of either was in doubt by Mr. Hockley, but he wasn't so sure. He got a copy of the Titanic survivors list and there was a man named Peter Whitman and a woman named Sybil Carson. Perhaps she was a relative of the supposed Emma Carson. Perhaps they could give him some answers.

Hockley knew little about how close Carson and Whitman were to his fiancée, but he blamed them for convincing her that she was better on the street than under his care. The man was possessive, to say the least, but it wasn't the PI's job to judge, all he needed to do was find the girl and bring her back to her family. The investigator just hoped she wouldn't

The PI lights up another cigarette and begins packing his office. He had a few telegrams to send and meeting with another potential client. He had to look more into Whitman and Carson when he got the chance.

At five o'clock, the man steps out onto the sunny streets, bustling with the rush hour traffic and people on their way to the bars. He would soon join them. He smokes another cigar, creating thick smoke around his head to conceal his identity. He begins heading down the street in the bright warm sunlight.

In front of his favourite bar in the downtown area, he stops to finish off his cigar before going inside. He listens to other people's conversations, something a PI had to be good at when gathering evidence.

He leans against the building when a particularly loud conversation catches his attentions. A young man staring into the window of a jewelry shop. The man is young, in his twenties, blonde and with blue eyes staring at one large diamond ring with a sketchbook under his arm. Another blonde man, maybe a bit younger stands next to him, slightly shorter, carrying a briefcase.

"Jack, she'll like anything you buy her," the one with the briefcase says aloud.

"I just want to get her something she'll really love and want to keep for the rest of her life."

"She has you doesn't she?" the shorter one asks. "I just can't believe you're going to go through with it."

"We have a baby on the way, I want us to be a real family so there will little scandal as possible, Rose has been through enough already and I definitely don't need our child to be called a bastard."

The name perks the private eye's interest. Sounds very similar to the one he's looking for. He lights up another cigar to buy himself some time. The two men continue talking, blissfully unaware of the one man clouded in smoke eavesdropping.

"It won't matter as long as you guys are together," the one with the briefcase adds.

"I just wish I could get her a _Tiffany's_ diamond ring. I do have the money for it"

"Jack, you need to save that money for a house and for a life for your family. She'll love whatever you put on her finger."

"I guess you are right," the one called Jack sighs. "I'm counting my pennies, this job at the station is really paying off."

"How do you think you're going to do it?" the other blonde asks.

"I want to take her to Santa Monica, she can't drink the cheap beer with the baby and apparently horseback riding and roller coasters are not good for pregnancy either, but we'll be by the seashore, we'll have a lot of fun and we'll be just in time for the Fourth of July fireworks."

"Has Rose ever seen fireworks before?"

"I think so, but never on the beach."

"Well, I think that is a great place to do it. You know I proposed to Emma in Canada, along the lake, just as the sun was setting. The glow made her look so beautiful, so elegant and when I brought out that diamond, her eyes lit up and the tears reflected the burning sun. The waves crashed over my pants when I went down on one knee but I didn't care. She knelt down with me and kissed me as her answer. I knew right then that I was the luckiest man alive."

There's a honk from the street and the two men turn. A young brunette is sitting in the car parked on the curb.

"Come on, I have to get home and eat before I go to class."

"We know," the shorter blonde says. "You only ever remind us every day."

"Just shut up and get in. Jack, a few more days till that paycheck comes through and then you can stop breathing on the glass and actually get the ring."

The two men chuckle as they climb into the car and it speeds away.

The investigator puts out another cigar before taking out his notebook to jot a few things down. The one called Jack worked at the station, he was proposing to a woman named Rose. He'd have to look into any employees with the name Jack. The name Emma also came up.

The private investigator puts his notebook away and then steps into the noisy bar for his drink. As he sipped his whiskey, he thought about his potential new lead.


	52. Chapter 51: Proposal

Chapter 51: Proposal

"Rose, don't eat too much, you don't want to be sick on the train," Emma says.

Rose rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at Emma. For the past week or so, she's been craving unusual things, including pickles, watermelon, peanut butter, salt water taffy and mayonnaise on toast. She had Jack go out and pick up these unusual ingredients and she ate continuously through the day. Fortunately, her morning sickness was less and less noticeable, allowing Rose to focus on Sybil.

Rose takes a pickle from the plate she prepared for herself for lunch and swirls it in peanut butter before taking a big bite. These cravings were unusual

"When my mom was pregnant with Sybil, she craved grapefruit, strawberries, and chocolate," Emma says, packing some lunch for the two on their trip. "They say when you crave sweet things, like sugar and spice, you're having a girl. Salty and tangy means a boy. You Rose, seem to be craving both."

"Maybe that means a boy and a girl," Peter says, lugging Rose's suitcase down the stairs followed by Jack.

Jack puts his suitcase and down and goes over to Rose, kissing her. "Boy or girl doesn't matter to me," Jack smiles. "As long as it's healthy and happy."

"That was what my father said about Sybil," Emma adds, finishing up the sandwiches. "That is the most important thing, the other stuff is old wives' tales." She swallows hard, thinking in her mind, Sybil may have been healthy, but her mother had not been. She shakes the thoughts from her head.

Rose smiles once and finishes another pickle.

"What time does the train leave?" Peter asks.

"One-thirty," Jack answers. "One train to Santa Monica, California."

Rose smiles again, so excited about what was to come. She and Jack were fulfilling their promise they made on the _Titanic_ to go Santa Monica and ride a roller-coaster till they threw up, drinking cheap beer and learning to ride a horse like a man. Rose, of course, knew that her pregnancy complicated these things, but they would still have a wonderful time.

Jack had the ring he had purchased two weeks ago in his pocket. His second paycheck and some of his painting money helped pay for a beautiful silver band with a .50 cut diamond, surrounded by two small sapphire stones. It was small but very beautiful. He couldn't wait to see it on her finger. He had it in a small blue velvet box and it was his anchor in his pocket, keep him from floating away.

He hoped that Rose was oblivious to his intentions and that they were merely going on a trip, but Rose knew deep down that something big was going to happen. Her heart beat in anticipation and excitement.

"Okay," Emma says. "Let's get going."

"Just let me get some more art supplies," Rose says and goes upstairs. "I really want to try some painting." She's wearing a lovely lavender sundress that swishes every time she moves. Her stomach was slightly protruding with the growth of the new life inside her and Jack knew she was glowing, she was the most beautiful woman he had every seen and he definitely wanted to marry her.

Peter and Jack bring the bags out to the car.

"Nervous?" Peter asks, noticing Jack's quieter demeanor.

"Is it that obvious?" Jack asks.

"Just give her a wonderful time and tell her that you love her," Peter says. "Just act as normally as possible."

"But how will I know when I should…you know…"

"You'll just know. The moment will feel so perfect, everything will just slow down, just for that moment. When I proposed to Emma, it was just so perfect. I was nervous as ever, but when we were on the beach, walking hand in hand along the water. I knew she loved sunsets and the beach and when I saw the look of love in her eyes, I just knew. When the sun reflected off the diamond, the glow in her eyes and with that smile, I knew she was going to be my wife."

Jack smiles and Peter pats him on the shoulder. "It doesn't matter how you do it, she loves you and she'll say yes."

Jack takes a deep breath and shuts the door to the car.

Rose comes out with Emma behind her and Sybil in arms.

Emma and Peter drive the two down to the train station. The whistle blows as people climb onto the awaiting train. Peter and Jack load the bags onto the train and then join the girls on the platform.

"Have fun," Emma says, hugging Rose tightly.

"We will."

Rose leans over and gives Sybil a kiss on the cheek, in which the tiny tot smiles and gurgles and grabs for Rose's hair.

Peter gives Jack a hug. "She'll say yes," he whispers.

Emma embraces Jack with a knowing smile. "Good luck," she whispers.

Peter hugs Rose and then Jack helps his pregnant…girlfriend onto the train. They find a window seat and wave as the train lets out another whistle before beginning to steam away. Peter, Emma, and Sybil, with Emma's help, wave to the couple.

As they settle into their train car, Rose lays her head on Jack's shoulder to fall asleep. Jack puts his arm around her and subtly puts his hand near his pocket to make sure the ring is still there.

…

The train blows off steam as it pulls into the station.

The couple gets off hand in hand and into the warm California sun. The sounds of the ocean are comforting and the sounds of the busy seaside city greet them. Jack flags a cab to a small hotel where they rent a room with and ocean view.

"Oh, Jack," Rose gasps. "You can see the pier." Rose takes in the marvelous view of the sandy beaches and the crystal blue waters, but what excites her most is the Santa Monica Pier. She can't believe that they are finally here, being able to do all the things they had talked about on _Titanic_ and more. A large Ferris wheel stands high above the water and the large tracks of the roller coaster raise a small cart high into the air before dropping them down a steep hill. The sounds of laughter and screams are heard from their hotel. Rose's eyes fill with tears.

Jack comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her.

"Ready to fulfill that promise?" he asks.

…

"I don't know Jack," Rose says nervously as they stand in line for the roller-coaster. "What about the baby?"

"It will have its first thrill of its life," Jack says jokingly. Rose frowns at him. "I checked with the doctor, you're still in your first trimester, so it's safe, you just can't drink the cheap beer."

"Next please," the ride supervisor says. Jack climbs into the car and Rose follows reluctantly.

As they are strapped in, Rose feels her heart pounding and her stomach twist tightly.

"Don't forget to scream," Jack adds. "And scream like a man."

"They don't exactly teach you how to scream in finishing school," Rose says humorlessly.

The coaster begins to move and Rose clings to Jack as they ride car goes up a steep hill part. When they get to the top, Rose's stomach drops out from underneath her as the wind blows her hair behind her and the car rattles beneath them.

"Throw your arms up!" Jack yells. "It's more fun that way!" and he lets go of her hand.

"Jack, Jack Wait!" Rose says in shock before she can do anything, her hands are in the air. She feels the rush of adrenaline and she opens her mouth to scream and it comes out almost like a laugh. Every steep drop, they scream louder and louder, laughing the entire time.

When they get off, Rose feels slightly dizzy, but excited, waiting for the blood to stop rushing through her veins. Her stomach twists in protest slightly and Rose leans near a trash can just in case.

"I knew one ride would do it for you," Jack smiles knowingly. "You're just getting over morning sickness."

"That was fun, though," Rose says. "Maybe we can do it again when I'm not as pregnant."

"Maybe we should try something a little slower," Jack nods towards a carousel. "It'll be our substitute for the horses on the beach until the baby is born, plus you can still ride it like a man."

Jack helps Rose onto a carousel horse, sitting "like a man" and then takes his seat next to her. Little children giggle and laugh around them with the beautifully carved horses go up and down and in a circle. Rose laughs as loudly as the children and Jack continue to smile and hold her hand.

The couple visits the fun house next, laughing at the trick mirrors and walking through a maze of glass. They pose for a picture with one of those funny cut out scenes and play a few carnival games. Jack manages to win Rose a lovely stuffed dog at the baseball throw. They take a ride on the Ferris wheel afterwards, both enjoying the beautiful view of the California coast. The ocean like a bright blue gem that sparkled in the afternoon sun.

Afterward, they go to the dance hall and dance until the late afternoon. The music wasn't as lively as it was on _Titanic_ , but the two of them danced until their legs nearly fell off.

"Want to get something to eat?" Jack asks.

"Yes please," Rose says. "This baby is starving."

"How about a hot dog?" Jack suggests.

"What is that?" Rose asks.

"You've never had a hot dog?" Jack pretends to gasp in horror.

"Ladies weren't allowed to eat anything that would dirty their gloves," Rose says in an almost prissy manner.

"Man, you were deprived," Jack says and goes to the nearest food cart. "Two please."

Jack brings Rose a hot dog on a bun with ketchup and mustard. "There you go, one hot dog with all the fixings."

Rose takes a big bite. The warmth of the dog mixed with the sweetness of the ketchup and mustard makes Rose lick her lips.

"It's delicious," Rose says and devours the rest of the dog quickly.

After that, Jack leads Rose towards the beach. They take off their shoes and go along barefoot. She giggles as the sand tickles her toes and kicks some playfully at Jack. The beach isn't too crowded, but several people lay along the sand, soaking up the afternoon sun. Several sailboats glide along the glistening water, creating the perfect scene for an artist to draw.

Jack gets an idea.

"I want to draw you," he says eagerly.

"Like one of your French girls?" Rose says mischievously, raising her eyebrow.

"No, I just want to draw Rose, beautiful, glowing Rose. My muse."

"Where?"

Jack takes a moment and then spots a large rock by the shore.

"There!" he indicates.

He guides Rose over to the rock and tells her how to pose. He then sits in the sand, gets out his sketchbook and begins to draw.

Rose's heart pounds loudly, she has a flashback to the night in her stateroom. Jack's bright blue eyes looking upwards ever so often as she lay by the firelight on the sofa, the Heart of the Ocean around her neck and the slight smile on her face. She felt so in love with Jack at that moment, despite the fact that she was nude in front of him, but it didn't matter, they were soon both nude in the cargo hold. She suddenly shakes the images from her head, not wanting to bring up the nightmare again and ruin the image.

"Stop moving," Jack orders and Rose poses again, staring lovingly at Jack.

Jack's hand sweeps over the paper in quick, but precise movements. His eyes go up every so often to behold the beautiful image he was sketching. He looked up more often than he had to, he just wanted to see the woman that he would propose to. His hands got sweaty and his heart raced, he had been so busy having fun that he forgot about the proposal. The ring was still in his pocket, never leaving his side, but he just wasn't sure when the right moment would be. He focused his attention back to his muse, capturing her likeness and the shadows of her face with the receding sun. She was his Mona Lisa, perfect in every way. He knew he would spend the rest of his life with her, he just wanted to know when the right moment for that would be.

Once Jack is done drawing Rose, he brushes his hands off. Rose goes up behind him and looks at the drawing.

"How much?" Rose asks, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Your beauty has no charge," Jack says.

The two sit for a few silent moments on a blanket they found, staring at the rolling waves and the bright horizon, as if inviting them to join the beautiful scene.

"Want to go in the water?" he asks.

Jack leaves his coat and the ring near the blanket and starts towards the water, guiding Rose along.

Rose pauses at the water. She swallows hard and her heart rate. They haven't been near the water since the sinking and the nightmares she had about Jack drowning and the boat never coming back, have made her reluctant. Jack too shared some of this anxiety, but there was no ship in sight and this was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives.

"You okay?" Jack asks quietly.

Rose doesn't respond at first and she swallows again.

Jack reaches over and grabs her hand and squeezes it.

He leans in.

"It's okay, I'm scared too, but we're here…alive and well…"

Rose closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath.

"But as long as we're together, we'll be okay."

Rose squeezes Jacks hand tightly for re-assurance before turning her head to kiss him deeply. The warmth of the sun shines down on both of them and the sounds of the waves have a soothing effect on them. Jack kicks off his shoes and rolls his pants up. He steps into the water. It wasn't anything like the Titanic, it was warm and the waves rolled up onto the sandy shore. Jack holds Rose's hand, trying to coax her into the water.

"It's cold," Rose says in an almost whining voice. She lifts up the folds of her skirt and steps into the water.

"Would you like me to carry you?"

Rose smiles.

"I'd like that."

Jack goes over and lifts Rose up bridal style. He carries her out into the water as the waves roll up on his ankles. He then begins spinning her in large circles, laughing the entire time. Rose can't help but laugh too. She was still a little reluctant, but Jack's strong arms around her alleviated some of her fear. As he goes deeper, his pants soak all the way through, but he is too busy having fun.

"Jack stop, I'm getting dizzy," Rose squeals like a little girl.

Jack begins to feign dizziness. "oh, my head, I'm getting so dizzy, I can't hold on..."

"Jack don't you…"

Before Rose can finish her sentence, Jack tosses her into the water, dress and all. Rose pushes her way up to the surface to see Jack treading water next to her. Jack smirks at her. Rose gives a pouting face and then splashes Jack playfully. Jack sputters and then splashes her back. Rose laughs and begins to swim, going under water again. The waves wash over their soaking bodies. They kiss again, more deeply and laugh happily.

…

The sun begins to set on the beach as both of them climb out of the water, soaking wet and giggling. They lay on a blanket and eat some sandwiches as a picnic, and afterward, Jack buys her some cotton candy, something Rose had never had before.

"What do you think?" Jack asks.

"It's delicious," Rose smiles. "I love how it melts in your mouth."

They lay back and watch the setting sun over the horizon.

"It's so beautiful," Rose sighs gently, laying her head on Jack's shoulder. They are both reminded of the sun setting for the last time on Titanic, where Jack taught Rose how to fly.

The beach begins to fill up with many people as there is preparation for the Fourth of July fireworks. Little children run along the beach, leaving little footprints behind, while their parents chase after them. They were also building sandcastles and playing with sparklers. Two elderly people walk along the water hand in hand and another couple lay back and look at the stars. Several men laugh behind the couple, clinking their beer bottles together and celebrating the liberty of their country. Some women giggle amongst themselves and kick sand from around their ankles. The lights of the Santa Monica Pier light up, making look like a city at night and even the Ferris wheel is lit up completely, adding more beauty to the night.

As the sun sinks below the surface of the water and the stars come out, a loud whistle echoes across the beach and a flash of red light explode into the darkening sky. The sound startles both Rose and Jack and Rose flashes back to the night on the ship, with officers shooting up flares in hopes of attracting the attention of another ship. She leans even closer to Jack and grabs his hand. These fireworks, however, are beautiful, streaks of red, white, orange, blue, green and pink explode in front of them, their reflections dancing across the water in the waves.

Jack looks over at Rose and looks at her beautiful face glowing in the fireworks. Her eyes stare up in wonder and awe as if this is the most beautiful show she's ever seen. He can feel the ring box in his pocket. His heart is pounding loudly. He's doing his best not to look nervous, but he definitely feels like it, the ring was becoming a stone is his pocket, weighing him down in anticipation and anxiety. He's not sure when he wants to propose, during the show or after…he can't decide. He has to tell himself that she loves him and she'll say yes, no matter when he does it. Peter's words of he'll know when the right moment will be to ask for her hand, it all plays out like a storybook. He wishes he could've bought her a bigger ring to symbolize their devotion and strength for each other, but again, Rose was happy enough with him, she never needed anymore or any less.

As the fireworks show comes to a close, there is applause and cheering as the sky grows dark again to allow the moon and stars to put on their own display of beauty, many people begin to pack up and head either to the pier or home. Parents carry sleeping children in their arms and others pick up their blankets belongings after one last chug of beer.

Eventually, as the moon rises, the beach is relatively empty. The full moon hovers above the water like a pale white orb, illuminating both Jack's and Rose's faces. Jack's heart pounds against his chest and he slips his hand into his pocket to feel the velvet box.

It's time… he thinks to himself.

Jack swallows hard and stands up. Rose soon follows.

"Ready to go?" she asks.

"Not just yet…" Jack says. He turns to face Rose.

"Rose, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever met. Your loving, feisty, happy and passionate. When I first met you, you were a girl feeling trapped in a world she didn't want and thought there was one way out. But I knew then that you wouldn't jump, you had so much to live for, you just needed someone to listen to you and guide you. I knew when I took you dancing that you and I were destined to be together. The way you laughed and how lovely you looked with a smile on your face, made me realize that I couldn't live without you, not for a second. Sure we've had our ups and downs, but what relationship doesn't. In the end, you and I saved each other and when I saw you again, laying on the grass, eyes filled with sadness, all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and never let you go, make sure you were never sad again…"

Jack gets down on one knee and pulls out the ring. The shiny diamond reflects the light of the moon, making it glow very brightly.

"Rose DeWitt Bukater, I love you so much. Will you allow me to make you happy for the rest of your life? Will you jump with me into a new adventure, one filled with passion and love? One that where nothing can stand in our way? Rose, will you marry me?"

Rose's eyes fill with tears and her heart pounds loudly. The largest smile she could ever muster spreads across her face. She leans down and kisses Jack deeply.

"Yes, yes, a million times yes!" She screams so that the entire beach can hear.

Jack slides the beautiful diamond on her finger and then picks her up. She laughs so loudly and so hard, Jack soon joins in and he spins her around until they both fall over into the warm sand. Rose lays against the sand, Jack practically on top of her, looking up into the beautiful blue eyes of the man she loved so much. She puts her hand on his face. She would never love someone as much as she loved Jack. He saved her, he set her free, and now they could be together forever. She smiles so widely; her cheeks were becoming sore and she felt like she was going to burst with joy. Jack leans in and kisses her passionately. He loved her so much, he never wanted to let her go again. His excitement and happiness overflowing into this one kiss.

The two fall asleep on the sandy beach, clinging to one another in the soft breeze.


	53. Chapter 52: A New Development

Chapter 52: A New Development

The private investigator sits at his desk, twirling a nickel with his thick left fingers, a glass of whiskey in his right hand. He waits as the clock in his office ticks away the seconds… the minutes… the hours… he's waiting…waiting for the just the right moment. It's after 7 o'clock in the evening, but the streets are quite lively, many people going to Times Square for the 4th of July fireworks or to bars to toast the evening. This PI, however, had other plans.

The lights outside his office go out, indicating the last of the PIs are going to the bar for a drink or home to their wives and families, but he is not. He's waiting. He has some work to do.

He's been biding his time over the past couple of days, going through the employee files, looking for someone… he came across the file he was looking for, under the _recently hired section_ and under _sketch artist._

 _J. Dawson_

Now, of course, this could mean nothing… Jack and Dawson were very common names and it could be a mere coincidence. For all this investigator knew, J. Dawson was a middle-aged man, with horn-rimmed glasses and beard, who's been married for twelve years, with two children and have nothing to do with the case. Still, ever since his encounter with the two young blonde men on the street, his mind has been reeling in suspicion and thought, like a well-oiled machine. The gears in his head had not stopped whirring, not even for a moment. He knew that Mr. Hockley and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater were getting anxious and he was a man who would get the job done. He worked what he earned, no matter what the consequence.

Once the sounds of the last private investigator leaving his office, locking it up tight and then his footsteps fading down the stairs, the PI makes his move. He downs the rest of his whiskey and expertly flips the nickel into the glass. He stands up with the employee folder and reaches for his coat by the door. He shuts the door and locks it with his keys. He goes to the end of the hall and takes the stairs to the floor below him, where the more "main" law activities went on. Where officers hired by the city conversed and conducted investigations on the streets of New York. Those who did not have a private practice. There are interrogation rooms, a photo dark room, a fingerprint facility, a barracks for the officers on the night shift and the sketch artist studio.

The PI walks to the end of the hallway, to the room where this J. Dawson most likely works. The door is unlocked with one of his keys; any detectives or investigators had access to the entire station, no matter what.

The room was musty, the shades were drawn and the place was a mess. It definitely looked like an artist's studio; piles of paper were stacked high on the desk and on chairs, the waste basket filled with a dozen more crumpled sheets. Pencils of all shapes, sizes, and colours were in a coffee cup on the desk and beside and artist's easel. There was an ashtray with some cigarette butts in it and a chair placed in front of the desk for witnesses to sit. The shades were drawn on the windows and the PI noticed that the entire office had a small layer of dust on it. The man moves carefully to the desk. He begins rummaging through the papers, looking for any important evidence that would be of interest to him. When that is fruitless, he goes for the desk drawers.

When opening the second drawer, the investigator sees a face staring up at him. He's almost surprised for a moment, but not the way one might expect.

The picture looking up at him had high cheekbones, green eyes, demure lips and curly red hair. The man has seen this picture before, on that is hanging on his wall, one that looked like a younger, much calmer version of the anxious woman in a large hat and carrying a handkerchief, weeping in his office upstairs.

The PI smiles inwardly and removes the picture from the drawer. He looks the sheet up and down thoroughly, not wanting to jump to any irrational conclusions.

His doubts are soon put to rest.

Down at the bottom of this picture was the signature of the artist himself, _Jack Dawson_.

"Bingo," the investigator says to himself, a smile forming on his face.

…

The investigator comes in the following morning and asks the secretary for some information.

"Mr. Jack Dawson?"

"Yes," the private investigator says, blowing out some smoke. "I may need to have his help in sketching a missing person for a case I'm working on."

The lie was small, the investigator often had to lie in order to gain information, whether they were suspects or not. He felt no guilt as he must do what his clients ask him to, no matter what.

"Alright…" the woman says hesitantly. It's early in the morning and the station is relatively quiet, mostly due to many of the individuals being called out for public intoxication or some sort of disturbances, or the lucky few who had the night to themselves, nursing hangovers. The secretary herself looks particularly exhausted, perhaps she drank too much, dark circles under her eyes and the PI noticed that her blouse was on backward.

The secretary pulls out a more detailed version of employee records.

"Dawson…Dawson," she mumbles to herself. "Oh here it is," she pulls out a cream coloured folder.

"You may have to wait for him Sir, Mr. Dawson is out of town for the next few days."

"What a shame…" the PI says. "Do you know where he is currently staying so I might leave a message?"

The secretary bites her lip and then looks through the file.

"Uh, in Upper Manhattan, 224 Westmont Avenue, which is currently under the name of the Carson family. I heard Mr. Anderson mention that he was living with friends at the moment."

"Thank you…" the PI says. He writes down the address on a scrap of paper and then heads towards the door.

Again the name Carson had come up, he was aware of the Carson law firm had some form of significance. He decides that it would be better to visit the place of work first, before making a stop at the home.

It was time, that he paid a visit to this law firm.

…

"Hello," the secretary says, looking up at the man from behind her dark rounded glasses and her typewriter. "How may I help you?"

"I'm here to see the manager of Carson Law Firm."

"Yes sir, are you a potential client?"

"Of sorts…" the man says, blowing out more smoke from his cigar, causing the secretary to cough a little bit. "I need to speak with the managing partner with about a case I'm working on."

"Are you from the police department?" the secretary asks.

The man opens up his coat, which the secretary thought was odd since it was the fifth of July and the windows of the office were open to let any sort of breeze in. He shows her his badge. The secretary swallows hard and struggles to get the intercom working to call into the office.

"Yes ma' me, sorry to bother you, but there's a man from the police department."

There is a pause as the secretary listens to what the person says.

The secretary hangs up.

"Go right in," the secretary nods.

The PI walks to the hard oak doors at the end of the room. Politely he knocks and then opens the door.

To his surprise, there is a woman behind the desk, a very young woman, perhaps just entering adulthood. Her long hair is pulled back to keep it out of her eyes and her bright blue eyes look up to take in her guest. The investigator immediately figures out who this is.

"Ms. Carson?" the man says with some surprise, but not much.

"Yes, that's me, how can I help you?"

Emma looks at the man in surprise. He had a thick cloud of smoke around his head from his large cigar in his hand, concealing his facial features completely. It was very unsettling and made her a bit nervous.

The investigator smiles to himself, another piece of the puzzle falls into place. Looks like Hockley was wrong and the young girl did survive.

The investigator reaches into his pocket and brings out a business card. He places it on the desk in front of Emma. Emma's eyes go wide. Her mind races as to why this investigator would be here. She does run a law firm, so maybe he wanted them to write a report or briefing for a criminal, but this man was an investigator, they usually worked on their own, to find people.

"How can I help you Detective?" she asks.

"I'm here to talk about this woman…" the investigator pulls out the newspaper photo of Rose and Caledon and slides it across the table. "Rose DeWitt Bukater, I've been told that you knew her. Have you seen her?"

Emma's eyes go wide as she is now up to speed. Clearly, Cal would hire someone to find Rose, but someone more undercover to avoid scandal. She wonders what the man wants to know. Did he think that they kidnapped Rose? Were they harboring a fugitive? Was he here to arrest her? Her heart pounds in her chest and she feels herself start to sweat. Should she tell the truth? She can't sell Rose out to Cal, especially when she and Jack were going to come back from Santa Monica engaged to be married! But she knew she couldn't lie to a man of the law, that would be obstruction of justice and she'd have a hard time defending herself in court.

Emma decides to play this a little differently.

"What do you intend to do once you find her?"

"A question with a question…" the investigator says, inhaling his cigar. "You certainly are a lawyer."

"I've been taught some tricks," Emma says. "But I do have a right to know what you want with Rose as talking about her to you could put her very life in danger."

"How might that be?"

Emma pulls out the picture of Peter she has on her desk. She points to him.

"My fiancé was shot in the leg on the deck of the _Titanic_ , by Mr. Hockley himself, seen by multiple witnesses. He nearly bled to death and was on a crutch for more than two months. He may never walk properly again. And that is what happened when you helped his fiancé escape from him and get in the middle of his personal issues."

"What makes you think I'm working for Mr. Hockley?"

Emma wasn't finished, she completely ignores his question. She holds up the picture of Sybil.

"My sister had been abducted by Mr. Hockley previously in order to lure his fiancé, her true love, and my family into a trap. And the man who Rose truly loves was framed and arrested for a crime he did not commit and handcuffed to a pipe, _while_ the ship was sinking."

The investigator looks at the girl through the cloud of smoke that surrounds his head, slightly surprised. He had assumed that Mr. Hockley was possessive and quite possibly abusive, but never had he thought that the man would abduct an innocent child and shoot and man to get what he wanted. He blew out a round of smoke.

"They were also shot at by Mr. Hockley while the Grand Staircase was filling with water…"

Emma leans back. "So you see I have a lot of rights to know if the information I give you will bring harm to my friend or her child, or her loved ones."

The investigator was silent for few moments. The girl had certainly had a lot to say and it seemed very justified that she didn't have to say anything to him for the fear of her friends' safety and now apparently a child... Mr. Dawson's no doubt.

"You're right," the man says. "You are absolutely right; I have no business asking you questions to give information to my clients if you believe that one of these clients is a danger to Ms. Bukater and her child. I am the man of the law after all and I do not want to bring harm to anyone."

"Exactly," Emma says, leaning back in her chair, glad that they were on a similar playing field.

"However, I do have a grieving mother who is desperate to find her child. A woman who has had many sleepless nights since her daughter disappeared. A woman who has lost a lot of weight due to the anxiety and nervousness she feels inside. A woman who calls me every day for details. She believes that her daughter has been kidnapped, being starved and imprisoned by some maniac. I'm sure you can imagine how painful it is not to know where someone you love is?"

Emma's taken aback for a moment. From what Rose had told her, Ruth seemed like a vain and selfish woman who didn't give two hoots about other's feelings, she was forcing Rose into a loveless and abusive marriage, and merely for money and to keep the family status. Putting so -much weight on her seventeen-year-old daughter's shoulders. But here the investigator was telling her that Ruth had feelings, she was weeping and starving herself out of grief. When she had heard that Rose had escaped from her first class life, Emma had encouraged it and cheered her on, happy she was on the right path to freedom, but now she was seeing how much grief it was causing someone else. Not realizing that running away was a double-edged sword.

She swallows. She knew from personal experience what it was like to not know where her loved ones were, the stress she experienced, the tears she cried, the sleepless nights she endured. She wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Emma merely nods and bites her lip. Her stomach churned with guilt.

"But I suppose if what you have said about Mr. Hockley is true, I have grounds to drop him from my case load for criminal behavior and leave them in the dark. Thank you for your time." The investigator gets up to leave.

"However…" Emma says, a smile coming to her face. "Your job is just to find her, you never actually agreed to bring her to anyone did you?"

The private investigator stops, hand on the doorknob and a similar smile comes to his face.

"Yes…" he says. "That is very true."

"You never had to disclose a location either. If I tell you that Rose is safe and happy, would that be enough to calm down Mrs. Bukater?"

The investigator nods from behind a thick cloud of smoke.

"I assume that you can keep thing anonymous as well?" Emma asks. "For the safety of my own family?"

The man nods again.

"I will tell Rose that her mother is searching for her, but it should be within her rights to decide whether she wants to contact her or not."

"I understand," the PI says, blowing out another round of smoke.

"And we also might have to work up a restraining order to prevent Mr. Hockley from ever coming near her or anyone close to her."

"I'm sure you can arrange that," the investigator says, very impressed with this girl's skills. "You are obviously a very bright young woman."

"Thank you," Emma says. She stands up from her desk and walks to shake the man's hand.

"You have my card. Hopefully, you won't hear from me again."

"Thank you," Emma repeats.

For a moment, through the smoke, she thinks she can see the man smile before he shuts the door and is gone in a final puff of smoke.


	54. Chapter 53: Lost and Found

Chapter 53: Lost and Found

Emma comes home a bit shaken from her meeting with the private investigator. Holly had come over to watch over Sybil with Thomas, who's birthday was a few days away.

"Are you alright Emma?" Holly asks.

Emma doesn't respond at first. She's really pale and completely zoned out. Thomas and Sybil play on the floor of the living room as Emma sits down in her father's favourite spot, a place where he often did a lot of his legal thinking. She was concerned about how she was going to break the news to Rose that her fiance was still looking for her, but also how she was going to have to protect her family and friends. What Cal had done to them was unspeakable and downright murderous; abducting Sybil, holding Rose at knife point, holding all of them at gunpoint, shooting Peter, having Jack arrested and basically sentenced to death and shooting at the couple while the ship was filling with water… she definitely feared for her life and for those she loved. She still had nightmares about that showdown…what if Cal had followed through on his threats… What if Cal found them now, she could not imagine what he might do to them. Murder Jack and the three of them and then drag Rose against her will to marry him. It was fortunate that she was able to negotiate with the PI to protect those closest to her, but Emma still wondered if it would be enough. Emma does her best to hide the tears she's shedding that she doesn't notice Holly standing in front of her trying to get her attention.

"Emma?" Holly says again.

"Sorry Holly, I've had a long day."

"I can see that; you look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Not really a ghost, but something has come back to haunt us."

"What is it?"

Emma swallows hard. She doesn't want to drag Holly, Carl and little Thomas into this situation. They weren't on the _Titanic_ , they didn't interfere with someone's engagement, they weren't almost shot at by a jealous fiancé. They didn't deserve to have their lives ruined by this man.

"I'm not sure I should tell you," Emma says, biting her lip. "It might risk your safety…"

Holly goes pale and turns to Thomas.

"Thomas, why don't you go with Sybil upstairs and play in her new room?"

"Why Mommy?" the boy asks.

Holly opens her mouth to speak and then closes it. She doesn't know what Emma's so afraid of, but she doesn't need her son overhearing everything and blurting things out as young children often do. If what Emma is afraid of does put them at risk, she doesn't need to scare her son.

"Because the adults need to talk," Emma says quickly.

"But why?"

"We just need to talk alone, it's nothing to worry about…" Emma says.

"Please, Thomas…"

"Yes Mommy," Thomas says. Holly scoops up Sybil and takes her upstairs to the nursery, with her son following behind.

Once the children are settled, Peter's sister sits down next to Emma.

"What happened Emma?"

"Do you remember Rose's fiancé?"

…

When Peter comes home later that night, his arms filled with papers, his hat, the mail and his briefcase. He hangs up his coat and hat and he finds Emma half asleep with Sybil in her lap in the living room. He drops his briefcase to the floor next to the couch and then leans over to kiss Emma quietly.

Immediately, Emma bolts up in shock, nearly throwing Sybil to the floor and screaming out in terror.

"Sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to wake you…"

"It's fine," Emma pants. She runs her hand through her hair and takes several deep breaths to calm herself. She picks up Sybil, who luckily didn't wake up and carries her sister towards the nursery.

Peter immediately knows something is wrong. Emma hasn't been this spooked since her nightmares on the _Titanic_. He worries for her well-being, she's been through a lot over the past few months; they all have and they seemed to be doing okay. That is until now.

Emma comes back down, still, a bit shaken.

"Would you like something to eat?" Emma asks quickly.

"N-No thank you… Emma, what's wrong?"

Emma shuffles into the kitchen before Peter can get an answer. She begins milling about the kitchen to distract herself, turning on the faucet to fill the teapot.

"You sure you don't want something? Maybe a drink, some tea? Holly made it from…"

Peter reaches over and places his hand over hers to stop her. He uses his other hand to turn his fiancée's face towards him.

"What's wrong Emma?"

Emma looks into Peter's eyes, they are full of concern and worry. She knows that he is scared, he hates seeing her like this. She leans over and pulls Peter into a long hug.

"I'm scared," she whispers into his ear. She can feel tears coming to the surface of her eyes. The fear that had been building up inside her starts coming out. She cries quietly in his arms.

Peter puts his arms around Emma and holds her close. He can hear her laboured breathing and her body is shaking slightly too. He rubs his hand against her back gently, something her often did to soothe her.

"Shh, Shh…I'm here…it's okay."

The two of them rock back and forth for a little while in front of the kitchen sink. The sounds of the night coming through the open window over the sink. A few crickets chirp merrily in the garden, a dog barks from a nearby yard and the wind blows gently through the trees. The lace curtains over the window blow outwards a bit with the rhythm of the wind, which reminds Emma of a ghost; it's as if something is reaching in from the outside to grab her.

Eventually, they sit down at the table, Peter brings her a glass of water and Emma takes a few more deep breaths to calm herself. She wipes her eyes and then reaches over grabs her beloved Peter's hand.

"What happened?" Peter asks.

"C-Cal is looking for Rose," Emma answers.

"Really?" Peter says his eyes going wide, but he wasn't as surprised as he thought he might be. If Cal was so possessive enough to shoot him, frame Jack and attempt to kill the couple while the ship was sinking, he wouldn't be surprised that after Rose ran away, that Mr. Hockley would come looking for her.

"Yes, he hired a private investigator, with a cloud of smoke over his face, to find Rose and this investigator paid a visit to me today."

"What did he ask you?"

"If I'd seen Rose," Emma says. She takes a sip of water.

"Did you…"

"I used my lawyer strategy of answering a question with a question. I asked him why the information was important to him and that I was afraid for her safety, that I wouldn't put my friend or her child at risk."

Peter nods. They had all witnessed first hand how dangerous Cal could be and if he found out that Rose was back with Jack and that they were having a baby… He immediately shakes the thought from his mind.

"I told him about what happened on the ship and why I thought it wasn't a good idea that I reveal where she was."

"Then what happened?"

"He guilt tripped me. He said that Rose's mother was very stressed, losing sleep and starving herself with worry about where her daughter was. He made me think of how I felt when you and Sybil were missing. I then saw a loophole in his verbal agreement with Hockley, that he only had to find Rose, he never had to bring her home. I also told him I wanted to keep it anonymous and that I'd figure out a way to protect all of us in case Cal decided to do his own investigating."

Peter nods once more.

"Then he left and I spent the rest of the day drawing up restraining orders…"

Peter leans over and kisses Emma's cheek.

"I'm proud of you," he says gently. "That would've been the way your father would have handled the situation.

"Really?" Emma asks. "Because I still felt like I betrayed Rose, practically giving away that she was living in the general area."

"You did what you had to do," Peter says earnestly. "You couldn't lie to a man of the law, that would just get us in a lot of trouble, but you negotiated and found a way around the problem, whilst still protecting everyone you love."

Emma sighs and then looks at her knees.

"The question now is, how am I going to break this to Rose?"

Peter swallows hard and nods.

"I'm sure this will put a damper on their engagement, they might even move away to protect themselves…" Emma sighs.

She was most afraid that Rose would hate her for putting them all at risk, but that's what the restraining orders were for. She also didn't want Jack and Rose to leave. She loved them like family, the couple are her best friends and the thought of having them move far away scared her. The house felt so happy and comfortable ever since they moved in, but even then, Emma knew it was only temporary. Rose and Jack had lives of their own to live; they wanted to see the world, they wanted new adventures and they couldn't get it by remaining in New York. They couldn't live together forever, especially with a new addition on the way.

If Emma was completely honest with herself, she envied them, they didn't have a company to run or a sister to raise, they were free… to a point and Emma knew in the back of her mind that Rose envied her life; having security, a job, an education, the freedom to make her own choices; everything that made her unique. However, Rose didn't understand how much of a burden these things could be… Emma was still young and she had so many things she had wanted to do with Peter before they got married and before they settled down. But circumstances changed and so Emma had to put her dreams on hold, in order to honour her parents and protect her sister. She loved her family, of course, it just seemed that she had to grow up a little too quickly. Until now, she hadn't really taken the time to see what she had to give up after losing her parents.

Peter hugs Emma tightly as she tears up again. She wipes the tears away and leans over to kiss her loving Peter. She wanted to be married to him, she wanted to have a life with him, but there was so much they should've been able to do first before working all day, coming home exhausted to a messy house and a tiny child… living a married life.

"I'm sure she'll understand," Peter says reassuringly. "It's not like we couldn't see this coming. She couldn't expect to disappear and have people not notice, she'd have to face the music eventually."

"That's true," Emma says. "But until today, I thought that her mother was just as selfish, materialistic and vain as Cal was, typical first-class, but the investigator told me that she was dying of worry and she did, in fact, have a soul and feelings."

"Any mother, no matter how self-involved she may be, still loves her child and misses her when they're gone."

"And vice versa," Emma says, feeling the gap left in her heart after her mother died and how she felt when Sybil was abducted on the ship.

"The bottom line is, Ruth DeWitt Bukater is not a threat to us like Cal is and she does have feelings, but it will be Rose's decision about whether she wants her mother in her life."

Emma nods and drinks up the last of her water.

"It's funny, isn't it? If someone had told me six months ago that I'd lose my parents, end up on a sinking ship and help save two star-crossed lovers escape a jealous man, I'd have said they were mentally disturbed."

"If someone had told me that I'd fall in love a beautiful woman and we'd end up running a business together and raising a child, all before we were married, I would've had them shipped off to the asylum for madness."

Emma smiles and kisses Peter deeply.

"Speaking of Rose," Peter says. "I got a letter from her and Jack today."

"What does it say?" Emma says eagerly.

Peter opens the envelope and opens the page.

 _Dear Emma, Peter, and Sybbie,_

 _Jack and I are having the most wonderful time in California. The weather is amazing and we go to the beach nearly every day. We rode the roller coaster (which did not make us throw up thankfully), the Ferris wheel and carousel, ate hot dogs and cotton candy and went through the fun house and dance hall on the pier. The Fourth of July fireworks were fantastic and have something special and joyous news to tell you when we get back. We still miss the sounds of New York and the comforts of home. We're eager to come back soon… just not too soon. Tell Thomas we are sorry we'll miss his birthday, but we'll bring back something special from the pier for him. We hope everything is okay at the office and that all is well. We've decided to stay another week or so to celebrate something special, but we'll be back before you know it._

 _Miss you all and see you soon,_

 _Love,_

 _Rose and Jack_

Emma smiles after finishing the letter. The two look at each other knowing full well what the news was and they couldn't be happier for their friends. They knew that the two were meant to be together forever, that not even a sinking ship could keep them apart and they hoped that they could plan a double wedding…maybe, whatever the couple wanted. They couldn't believe how far the five of them had come since first meeting on the ship. They had all grown and survived together, caring for each other and feeling like a family. This was something that Emma had missed since her parents passing and even though nothing could bring them back or replace them, she had found a new family she could cherish and love with all her heart.

Peter and Emma kiss again as the cool July breeze comes through the window. Emma knows that she may have lost a lot in her life, but she had found so much more worth keeping around for a long, long time.


	55. Chapter 54: Birthday Surprise

Chapter 54: Birthday Surprise

"Come on Emma, We're going to be late!" Peter calls from the base of the stairs.

"I'm sorry Peter, I'm just finishing up this page for my essay,"

"Okay, but you know Holly and Carl are expecting us to help set up."

"I know, but I only got a 64 on my last law essay, I need to make sure this is free of mistakes and such."

Peter sighs, he knows that Emma is working so hard on these courses, but he's worried that she's overwhelming herself too much. He knew that Emma wanted to prove herself to be worthy of running her father's company but… she's fighting an unwinnable battle, especially in today's world. He was sure that her professors looked down on her and deliberately gave her bad grades because she was a woman. They probably never even read her assignments fully and assumed that they were all weaker than the men in her class. He knows that Emma wouldn't give up, she was a fighter and he loved her. He just wished that the people would look past her gender and see that she was equally as strong as the men in her class. The young girl had survived a full night clinging to a lifeboat in freezing temperatures during the greatest maritime disaster ever recorded.

Sybil sits at Peter's feet, playing with a small toy. He had a tough time keeping the child in one place. Ever since she started crawling, Sybil was everywhere all at once, always underfoot. She was also in everything. They had to put things in front of the stairs to prevent the little girl from falling and put anything breakable out of her reach. Also, anything within her reach went straight into her mouth. Buttons, spools of thread, the couple exhausted themselves trying to keep Sybil safe. Emma was quite easy going about it though as Sybil was exploring her environment, something that her baby sister had wanted to do since the _Titanic_.

Emma finally comes down in a sensible dress and has the present wrapped and ready to be presented to the birthday boy. Peter leans in and kisses Emma before scooping up Sybil and heading to the car.

The ride to his sister's house was relatively quiet, Emma staring straight ahead while Peter drove through traffic. Peter could see the circles under his fiancée's eyes; running the company during the day, taking classes at night, maintaining a household and raising an infant around the clock, left very little time for anything else, especially for sleep and for each other. Peter tries to be proud of Emma, but she was so immersed and committed to all these things that he felt a distance between them. He hadn't said anything yet because he wanted Emma to achieve her goals and not make her feel guilty. He knew he just had to wait until the classes were over and then they could focus on each other again.

Once they arrive at the house, there are balloons hanging on the front porch and a colourful banner inside reading Thomas is 4. The three come up the path to the house and open the door to a grinning Thomas. He was dressed in his Sunday suit, very clean and pressed, complete with a little bowtie. His dark hair had been combed to near perfection and even his shoes had been shined for the occasion.

"UNCLE PEETA, AUNT EMMA!" the child practically yelled before throwing his whole body around his uncle's legs. "Did you know I'm four today. I was only three yesterday and today. poof, I was four! It was magic! Is that my present? What did you get me?"

The child chatters happily as Holly came to the door to pry her son off her brother. Emma hands over the present to Holly and then brings Sybil down to the living room. There were several games laid out on the floor, ready for young children to play with as well as colourful ribbons and balloons hanging around the house. Holly, however, looks flustered and very tired. She was covered in flour, assumingly from the cake. Emma immediately goes to help Holly prepare the drinks and snacks, while Peter heads out back to help Carl set up some more games in the back.

"It was supposed to be a small party," Holly mutters, mixing the icing for the cake with a wooden spoon. "How did it turn into such a production? Thomas has been running around the house non-stop asking for cake and presents."

"It's his birthday," Emma smiles. "Let him wear himself out."

"Mommy, when can I open my presents?" Thomas asks coming into the kitchen. He immediately reaches over and grabs for some freshly cut vegetables on the table. Emma gives him a playful smack to keep his hand away.

"Thomas you know you're supposed to wait for our guests to come," Holly says, pacing back and forth with the bowl in her arms.

"What kind of icing are you making Mommy? You know I like chocolate. Is Ivan Weiss coming?" the birthday boy is overwhelming his mother with questions. Holly grimaces and blows a strand of hair from her face. Her son is tugging at her skirt and apron for her attention.

Emma comes to her rescue.

"Thomas, I know your friends will be coming soon, but can you please play with Sybil until that happens?"

Thomas' face falls for a moment.

"If you do that, then time will go by faster and you might get an extra piece of cake afterward."

Thomas smiles brightly.

"Okay, Aunt Emma," and the four-year-old skips off.

Holly sighs. "I know it's his birthday, but does he have to drive me up the wall? I thought carrying him for nine months was punishment enough."

Emma laughs and sets out the food. She wasn't planning to have any big party for when Sybil turned one, just Peter's family and Jack and Rose.

Holly was throwing a nice little party for her son with just a few of the neighbourhood children and their parents. Soon the doorbell begins to ring and the voices of excited children and less than thrilled parents show up. They are all dressed nicely and each hand Thomas a wrapped package, which Emma takes from him and puts them away until later. Holly pours all the parents cups of lemonade and the children chase each other around the house. They yell and scream, much to Thomas' enjoyment. Eventually, Carl and Peter are ordered to start off some outdoor games. They play ring-around-the Rosie, several games of tag, jacks, horseshoes, and games of marbles, but Emma notices that at some point, all the games go back to chasing one another around the yard. Some of the mothers who came to help Holly in the kitchen while several of them men smoke on the back deck and chat about the weather. The children laugh and scream until it was time to eat. Holly makes them sit on blankets and eat sensibly. The women gossip amongst each other and sip on some of Holly's homemade tea.

As the dishes are being cleaned up, Emma suddenly notices something amiss.

Her sister!

She checks the living room and in the yard thinking one of the women had maybe picked her up so she could join in the fun. Emma's heart pounds loudly as she begins searching the house in growing panic. It was so much easier for the child to get lost now that she was mobile. She couldn't have climbed the stairs, she wasn't that strong yet, but she could be anywhere.

"Has anyone seen Sybil?" Emma says, coming back into the kitchen.

"No…" Holly says.

"Has anyone picked her up?"

The women whisper amongst each other to see if any of them had picked her up. They ask the men and when they haven't seen her. Emma begins to tear up in fear.

"Peter do you have Sybil?" Emma asks, coming out to the backyard.

"No, why would I have her?"

"I thought you were watching her!" Emma says. "Because clearly, I was busy!"

"She's not my sister!" Peter snaps back.

"She may as well be…"

"It's not my fault you are so busy to notice everyone around you!" Peter barks.

There is a growing rage between the two, Emma bursting into to tears, mostly from the stress, Peter also fuming.

"Split up everyone," Carl shouts trying to keep everyone calm. "She cannot have gone far."

"You'd be surprised," Peter says.

Everyone began splitting up in search of Sybil, no one knows where she might have gone. Even the children help out, looking into small spaces that they themselves might hide. People even go upstairs in case she did manage to escape up there. They look under beds, behind the couches, in the bathtub, in the kitchen cupboards and all around the back yard. Some of the men even check near the roads. This entire time, Emma is frantic, the fear similar to what she had felt the night Cal abducted her. Sybil could be hurt or worse. She just prays her baby sister didn't crawl towards the road or fall down the stairs.

"I found her!" a young voice calls out.

Everyone comes rushing over. Thomas holds open the door of the linen closet. On the floor, amongst the presents is a sleeping Sybil, covered in ribbon and scraps of paper. She has her fist in her mouth and seems to have torn at the packages around her. She must've worn herself out and laid down for a peaceful nap.

Emma immediately scoops up her sister and sighs in happy relief. She kisses her over and over again.

"Looks like she couldn't wait to open the presents either," Peter grins.

Emma smiles, still a little upset at Peter, but happy that everyone was safe.

Holly decides that Thomas can open his presents now since Sybil only got halfway there. The four-year-old smiles and rips open the packages with much glee and satisfaction.

He loved everything that he received, including new cars, tinker toys, his own checker's board and from Emma, Peter, and Sybil, a brand new scooter, a red one just the perfect size for a big boy! He also got birthday cards and his own farmer's hat from Peter's parents out west.

The entire group eats cake afterward, chocolate with Holly's homemade cream cheese icing and Emma sneaks Thomas an extra piece for being such a good sport about Sybil trying to open his presents. Soon the birthday boy falls asleep on his mother's lap and the party guests pack up, ready to go home.

Holly carries Thomas up to bed and places a special package under his pillow for when he wakes up. Emma, Carl, and Peter help clean up before the couple takes a tired Sybil and head home. There was still some silence between them.

"That was exhausting," Peter says as the two climb into bed. They still hadn't talked much since their fight at the party

"It was," Emma says. "We may have to tie a bell around Sybil's neck to make sure we know where she is."

There is a long pause.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Emma says gently. "I was letting my frustrations get the better of me."

"I'm sorry too," Peter sighs.

"I know something's bothering you… after you said about not paying attention to the people around me" Emma says, turning to face her fiancé. "Tell me."

"I…I just don't want to make you feel bad," Peter says, looking down at his pillow.

"Peter…" Emma says, lifting his face to hers.

"I-I just feel like with everything that you're doing right now…you don't have a lot of time for me…"

"Oh Peter," Emma says, reaching over to hug him tightly. "If that's all… Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to say anything because I know how determined you are to finish these classes and you shouldn't feel guilty"

"I'm so sorry…" Emma says with tears coming to her eyes. "I didn't realize this is how you felt and you're right, you have taken a back seat to everything right now. And here, if the world was ending, you'd be the only thing worth saving. You shouldn't feel guilty for telling me, we don't want to enter a marriage where we keep secrets do we?"

"No," Peter sighs.

"I love that you're being so patient with especially after everything that we've been through and I love you a million times over. I don't know what I'd do without you, but you're right, you've had to put up with a lot and you've always had to sacrifice, now I think it's my turn. How about sometime in the next week, we go out for dinner and dancing, just the two of us and then take a walk through Central Park."

Peter smiles, tears coming to his eyes.

"And I'll start coming home earlier so we can have some time together okay?"

Peter nods and kisses Emma passionately. He runs his hands through Emma's hair and grabs onto her like he'll never let go again. He loved this woman so much, he too, couldn't imagine life without her.

"I love you," Peter says.

"I love you too," Emma smiles.

"Forever and always?" Peter asks.

"Forever and always," Emma agrees.

…

Two days later, a taxi carrying the newly engaged couple pulls up in front of the house. Emma watches as the two come up the front path, smiles on their faces and a sparkling diamond on Rose's left hand. Emma swallows hard thinking about how her news about the private investigator could ruin this beautiful bliss.

They were so happy and the world was going crumble down around them, but Emma knew she couldn't keep this a secret. The two had to know, for their own safety and the safety of their child.

"Home Sweet Home," Jack says happily, opening the door. Emma opens her arms and embraces her friends, so happy to see them again. Jack carries the bags into the house and hugs Emma next.

Both seemed to have gotten some sun down in California, Jack's face and arms a gorgeous golden brown and his hair seemed a little bit blonder too. Rose had freckles bursting all over her face and her arms were a little red from too much sun.

Jack and Rose overwhelm them with happy stories and questions about how life was here. Peter brings Sybil over and the tiny child gurgles at familiar faces.

They all eventually settle down in the living room and Jack and Rose tell them about their trip. The people they met, the things that they did, the engagement… They brought home shells and other souvenirs, still laughing and giggling the entire time.

Emma smiles, wishing, hoping that she and Peter could recapture some of that bliss, get some alone time to bring out the passion and fire in both of them again.

Peter shares everything that was going on here and the engaged couple shows a small little telescope that they bought for the birthday boy.

The excitement soon settles down a bit more, enough for them to have dinner and then they go and sit on the porch again.

Emma sighs, looking at Rose and Jack, so happy in each other's arms…

 _They have to know!_ Echoes in her head.

"Uh, Rose…" Emma says.

"Yes?"

"There's something I need to tell you…"


	56. Chapter 55: Fury and Forgiveness

Chapter 55: Fury and Forgiveness

"What is it?" Rose asks, turning to Emma.

Emma's heart sinks when she sees the earnest and very happy smile on the redhead's face. Their happy bliss was about to come to an end.

"W-well, the other day…I was approached by a man who said he was working for…Caledon Hockley. And he is looking for you, Rose,"

Rose's jaw drops when Emma tells her this.

Tears are filling Rose's eyes and the smile she had drops to nothing. Just when she thought she was finally free of Cal and first-class life, he comes back to haunt them. She was carrying Jack's child and they were engaged, everything was so perfect until this moment.

"W-what do you mean?" Rose says.

"He was a private investigator and he told me he'd been hired by Cal and your mother to find you."

Rose leans into Jack for protection, the artist also quite disturbed by this news.

"What did you say? Y-You didn't tell him…?" Rose whimpers.

"No," Emma says. "I didn't tell him where you were, but I had to say that I knew you and who you were with…"

"WHY?!" Rose screams so loudly, some birds across the street take flight. "Y-you couldn't just deny it?! Let me live a life with the man I love, instead of selling me out to…!"

"It didn't turn out that way I swear…" Emma tries to say.

"After all Cal did to us and you end up selling your soul to him!"

"But Rose," Emma says.

Rose doesn't want to hear any more. She gets up from the porch and goes inside, making sure the door slams extra hard as she goes. When that noise is heard, Sybil's confused and frightened cries erupt from the nursery. Emma herself is now crying, knowing deep down that this would happen. Jack, however, knows that this isn't the end of the story. He always wants to hear both sides before he makes a decision. Emma is weeping hard. Peter goes to tend to Sybil and leaves the two alone.

"What happened Emma?" Jack says in a calm voice.

"She didn't let me finish. I couldn't lie to a man of the law, but I used one of my dad's lawyer techniques. I told the man that I was not at liberty to say especially since it put all our lives at risk. I told him what Cal did to us…" Emma wipes the tears from her eyes. "How he wanted to kill us and what he'd done to Sybil. I told him that our lives were in danger, especially the unborn one. He did guilt trip me, though, talking about how Rose's mother is sick with worry. She's losing sleep and starving herself over Rose. He made me think of the time when Cal took Sybil. I found a loophole in his verbal contract with Hockley, the man only had to find Rose, but he never had to bring her home to them. If he simply tells Cal and Rose's mother that she's okay…"

"He'll never give up his search," Jack interrupts. "You saw what he did to keep Rose and me apart…"

"I know," Emma says. "That's why I was drawing up restraining orders against him, this was he can't get near us…not if he wants to keep his reputation intact or he wants to face me in court."

"And he's already been to jail once, he wouldn't risk it again," Jack says.

"What?" Emma gasps. She can't help but feel slightly satisfied that Cal spent some time in jail. "What did he do? Was it for what he did on the ship?"

"No… I doubt he'll ever be charged for that… He got busted when he assaulted Wendy, Rose's lady's maid and some guy who came to help her," Jack explains.

"Obviously he's out now if he hired a private investigator," Emma deduces.

Jack sighs. "Knew he wouldn't. Guys like him always get off easy, while guys like me are handcuffed to pipes in sinking ships."

Emma nods, Peter comes back out onto the porch with a miserable Sybil.

"I can't believe that happened to you," Peter says. "It's so inhumane."

"Yeah, Cal's manservant left me in the brig to die, if it wasn't for Rose, I wouldn't be here." Chills run up Jack's spine, the sight of water leaking into the cabin, with no chance of escaping. His only relief was the sight of Rose coming to help him, kissing him and coming with an axe to cut him free. Despite the fact that he almost died that night from the freezing water, he was with Rose and she managed to save him again; allowing both of them to live, get engaged, get jobs, travel, prepare for a baby and live a life of freedom and love.

Emma leans forward and hugs Jack tightly. Everything seemed so wrong, that Cal would try anything to ruin their lives including trying to kill them and keeping everyone apart.

Jack gets up.

"I'll go talk to Rose, she's just upset…"

"I know she just wants that happy ending," Emma says. Peter hands Sybil to Emma to be comforted. Emma looks at Sybil and then to Jack. Her mind goes back to Rose's mother, the idea of having a missing child, what that can do to a person…especially a mother. "Please talk to her about at least contacting her mother. There's no need for me to take a restraining order out on her,"

"You're right, the worst she could do is forbid Rose from marrying me, but that ship has kind of sailed," Jack agrees.

Jack opens the front door and heads inside as Peter puts his arm around a still sobbing Emma. Jack goes up the stairs and knocks on the door of the room they've been staying in.

"Go away Emma!" is the response.

"It's Jack,"

"The door's open."

Jack walks in to find Rose grabbing things from the dresser and shoving them into a suitcase on the bed. Her face is stained with tears and distorted with anger and sadness. It was not a pretty look on her, it made Jack sad.

"Are you going somewhere?" Jack asks.

"No, _we_ are," Rose answers, not stopping at all to talk to her fiancé, shoving more clothes into the bag.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, since Emma sold us to the devil, we're going to have to leave now."

Jack sits down on the bed. "Rose…"

"Don't try to defend her!" the red-head practically yells. "I-I can't believe she would do this, after what Cal did to Peter and Sybil, you'd expect her to see reason."

"She did see reason Rose, but you try lying to a policeman, it's not a good idea."

Rose packs her lavender dress into the case and then her leather wallet full of money.

"Regardless," Rose says, tears still running down her face. She can't go back to that life. She won't! She's happy now, with the man she loves and a baby on the way. If Cal and her mother found out about the baby… the thought makes her sick.

Rose sits next to Jack, her hands soaking up her tears. Jack puts his arms around her and holds her close.

"Shh, it's okay Rose,"

"I-I…I can't lose you, Jack…not again…not to him…" she weeps.

"I know…" he whispers. "You're free now and as long as you're with me, I won't let anything happen to you. I promise…"

"B-But what about Cal?"

"What about him? He doesn't know where we are and he never will."

Rose leans out of Jack's arms and raises her eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" she asks. "Didn't Emma…"

"No, she didn't. If you had heard her out you would've learned that she used her lawyer strategies to get us out of this mess."

"How? What?"

"Emma knew how dangerous Cal was and she resisted telling the guy any information, especially if it put you and the baby at risk. She explained to him what Cal was capable of and found a loophole in his verbal contract that the man only had to find you, not bring you home."

Rose's stomach turns as she begins to feel guilty. She immediately jumped to conclusions and didn't hear her friend out. Give her a chance to explain herself, instead, she began yelling at the person who had given her and Jack a place to call home and the familial love that she had never received growing up.

"She was also drawing up restraining orders against Cal so he can never come near us or our baby again."

Fresh tears filled Rose's eyes, tears of guilt. "I'm a horrible person," Rose sighs.

"No, you're not," Jack says, pulling Rose close to him and brushing a few curls behind her ear. "You're a person who cares with her heart and soul. You want to make sure that everyone you love is safe. Unfortunately, that sometimes makes you impulsive and you act before you think."

Jack kisses the side of Rose's head.

"But don't worry, I love you all the same."

"Do you think Emma will forgive me?" Rose whispers.

"I know she will, she was almost on the brink of not telling us at all. She didn't want to ruin our engagement euphoria. She's just afraid that you'd react the way you did and not forgive her."

"Of course I will, now that I know that she's doing everything she can to protect us."

"Well, you can go tell her that, but before you do, I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"Emma told me that the private investigator mentioned your mother's current mental state. She's losing a lot of sleep and practically starving herself over finding you."

"Serves her right," Rose says through gritted teeth. She gets up and begins pacing the room.

"Rose, come on that's unfair," Jack protests.

"Jack, you didn't spend seventeen years with her. She ruined my life, she humiliated me at every turn and put money over her own daughter!"

"So from that she deserves to suffer?" Jack asks. Jack never did like Ruth DeWitt Bukater in the first place, but from what Emma had told him, she was genuinely falling apart over her daughter's disappearance, which showed she did care for Rose, at least on some level. He remembered how upset Emma was when Sybil went missing, and although he wasn't a father yet, he'd probably feel the same way if their baby disappeared.

"She made me suffer!" Rose screeches angrily. "She never cared about me at all!"

"But what did she really do to us? What crime did she commit?"

"She tried to force me to marry a homicidal maniac!"

"Okay I'll give you that, but she really only forbade us from seeing each other and tried to humiliate me in front of the first-class guests. And we both know that didn't stop us, especially because you're too strong for her. She can't do anything about it now Rose" Jack stands up and holds Rose's hand up with the diamond ring on it. "The worst thing she can do is not come to the wedding, but think about it…a mother who didn't care wouldn't be sending people out in search for you. Plus, she's going to be the only grandparent to our baby."

Jack puts his arms around Rose, caressing the tiny bump that was growing in her centre. Rose swallows a lot of her anger. Jack is speaking the truth that it almost makes her angry. She still couldn't forgive her mother for the years of torment and yet...

"But what if she tells Cal?"

"You can give her an ultimatum, either she cuts Cal out completely or she'll never be a part of our and our baby's lives."

Jack kisses Rose's neck. "Think about how'd you feel if your baby was missing, run off into the unknown."

Rose swallows hard again, tears reappearing for the third time. She sighs.

"Let me sleep on it," Rose whispers.

"That's fine and no matter what happens, I'll be right beside you."

Rose turns to look into Jack's beautiful blue eyes. They still captivate her and make her feel so safe and warm.

"Forever and always?" Rose asks. Emma's family vow kind of becoming a habit of theirs in terms of professing their love.

Jack kisses her deeply.

"Forever and always," he smiles.

Rose kisses Jack once more before going to find Emma. The girl is out on the porch with her now sleeping baby sister on her shoulder.

"Emma?" Rose whispers.

Emma turns, her eyes bloodshot from crying.

"Rose… I'm so sorry," Emma says.

"No Emma, I'm sorry, I should've listened to what you had to say. I know you care about us too much to sell me out like that. I know you'd do anything to protect us."

Rose walks over and embraces Emma tightly, squashing Sybil in between.

"You know I would Rose, you're like my sister,"

Rose's eyes tear up once more, Emma too is tearing up. The two women smile at each other and keep their hug for a little while longer.

"I've always wanted a sister," Rose whispers earnestly.

"Me too," Emma smirks and the two women laugh before going inside to put the third sister to bed.

…

Over the next week, Rose thinks long and fiercely about the idea of contacting her mother. The woman had made her life such a living hell, slowly killing her from the inside, forcing her into a loveless and abusive marriage, focusing on money rather than her daughter's happiness. It made Rose so mad that she wanted her mother to feel the pain that she had felt for the past seventeen years. And yet… everything Jack said was true. Ruth only ever tried to do what she thought was the best for her daughter, and clearly, from her wasting away over Rose's disappearance, Ruth did care and love her daughter. Rose furiously debated over whether to get in contact with her mother, even after Emma told her that she and Peter had filed the restraining orders against Cal and the private investigator had not come back.

What finally changes her mind is seeing Emma playing with Sybil, the bond the two have, one of love and compassion. She desperately wishes that she had that with her mother growing up… She put her hand over her baby bump. She would learn from her mother's mistakes and never be like that, but… it was never too late to try and fix things, even just a little bit.

Rose gets out a pencil and some paper the following day.

 _Dear Mother…_


	57. Chapter 56: Try Again

Chapter 56: Try Again

Rose comes down to the kitchen for breakfast with a letter in her hand.

"What do you have there?" Peter asks, putting Sybil into her highchair.

"A letter for my mother," Rose says quietly, keeping her eyes down at the piece of paper.

Jack stands up immediately and puts his arms around Rose. He kisses her neck.

"Really?" Emma says, stirring the eggs in the skillet.

Rose nods. "I decided both of you were right. I thought long and hard about everything and decided to write to her to tell her I'm okay. My mother never did anything life threatening to us and the worst thing she did was forbid Jack and me to be together. It's not like she can't do anything to us now." Rose looks down at the diamond ring on her finger that clasps her growing baby bump. "And if what the private investigator told us is true and she really does miss me, I think it's best that I at least let her know I'm okay."

Emma smiles warmly and serves the table scrambled eggs. She's happy that Rose is taking action, burying at least part of the hatchet. Emma was never going to have a mother again, neither was Jack, so they were going to have to make the best with those they had left. No family was ever going to be perfect and it was clear to all of them, minus the baby, that Ruth DeWitt Bukater had good, but misguided intentions for her daughter.

"I don't doubt that she'll put up a fight, trying to convince me to come home and marry Cal, but she doesn't have power over me anymore," Rose says as she grabs Jack's hand tightly. "Over us."

"I've been thinking about that actually," Emma says, pouring some warm milk for her sister. "And I think the best way to ensure she doesn't have power over you is to get married really soon."

Jack chokes on his eggs, Rose drops her fork onto her plate and Peter practically sprays his juice across the table.

"What?" Rose gasps.

"Well, you two are engaged now, but it's technically not legally binding yet. Someone could still do something to prevent you two from being together, so my idea is that we do a double wedding soon, for Peter and I to be 'officially' married and for you guys to finally start your lives together and prevent your mother or anyone else from keeping you apart."

Rose looks over at Jack and then down at her engagement ring. She and Jack had just gotten engaged and were simply enjoying the fact that they were together again. It had only been two months since the disaster and more than a month since she and Jack had been reunited, Rose just wanted to spend some time with her beloved artist and celebrate the things that life had to offer them. She wasn't even thinking about marriage yet, despite just recently being engaged, she just wanted to take it one day at a time. At the same time, Emma did have a point. If she and Jack got married soon, then there was nothing that either her mother or Cal could do to keep them apart. Plus, their unborn child wouldn't be considered a bastard, despite being conceived out of wedlock, and their lives could truly start, they could buy a house and move to wherever they wanted, maybe to Chippewa Falls, Jack's hometown or even Europe. It's something that Rose had always dreamed of; being Mrs. Rose Dawson, raising their child and living a comfortable life, maybe being able to get a career as an actress someday and the first step to that was to be pronounced man and wife.

"I'm not saying it has to be tomorrow at the courthouse, maybe a nice fall wedding or something quaint like that. Nothing too extravagant, but a small ceremony where you can celebrate your love for one another and finally be together forever and always."

Rose smiles when she hears the family vow said out loud. It was exactly the way she and Jack felt about each other, likewise for Emma and Peter. The couples' love was strong and it kept them together, overcoming obstacles and reassuring one another that they could do anything, that their love would survive no matter what. It felt right to be united in God's eyes and affirm their love for one another as a couple

Jack bites his lip hard. It seemed a little rushed to even be suggesting marriage so soon after they got engaged, but he loved Rose and he would do whatever it took to make her happy. He did like Emma's reasoning; it was a foolproof way to ensure that he and Rose could not be broken up again, he would take it in a heartbeat

"I'll let you guys think about it, but if you want that letter delivered Rose, I still have the private investigator's business card. He can tell your mother to come alone and I'll have the courts serve Cal with the restraining orders on Monday," Emma adds.

Rose manages a small smile, feeling relief that Cal wouldn't come near any of them ever again, the man was dangerous and he needed to be stopped from pursuing her any further.

"Okay," Rose says, handing over the blank envelope. She left no return address and it simply had Ruth DeWitt Bukater on the front of it.

"You sure you want to do this?" Jack asks gently.

Rose swallows and nods.

"It's time to move on with my life, with or without my mother."

…

The private investigator was examining a new case file for a missing steel worker in New Jersey when his phone rings. He blows out a ring of smoke before picking up the ear piece.

"Hello?" he says.

"Hello, this is Emma Carson from the law firm."

"Oh yes, the young lawyer who beat me at my own game, how can I forget, how may I help you?"

"I've been talking to Rose DeWitt Bukater and she's taken some time and thought over getting into contact with her mother, Ruth DeWitt Bukater. I have a letter with me from Rose to Ruth that she would like you to deliver to her mother and her mother only. Rose wants to put her mother's mind at ease so that she can move on with her life and call off the search. In that letter, there is also an ultimatum for Mrs. Bukater, if she is willing to separate from Mr. Hockley, then she is certainly welcome back into her daughter's life. We were hoping that you might be our messenger for the time being, just until Rose can establish a form of communication with her mother that will not be given to Caledon. That would be the full extent of your services."

The private investigator takes a long drag of his cigar as he considered the offer. He would like to have Mr. Hockley and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater off his caseload, there weren't the worst clients that he'd ever had, but they were pretty difficult to handle. He had been a messenger before, mostly between a widow and her husband's sons when it came to negotiating the last will and testament of the deceased. Normally, the messenger job fell to lawyers, however, Mr. Hockley and Mrs. Bukater said they didn't want the publicity for the case and he definitely did not want to hand the case over to Ms. Carson's law firm or any other for that matter.

"I think that would be appropriate," he says.

"Thank you, sir, I'll have Jack Dawson deliver the letter soon because as I understand you work in the same police station."

"That would seem to be the case," the PI grins. "Goodbye Ms. Carson, I hope not to hear from you again…"

"Thank you and good luck," Emma says.

"Indeed," the private investigator says before hanging up the phone.

…

"Sally," Ruth says from the living room of Cal's two storey New York apartment. "Could you please bring me a glass of water?"

"Of course ma' me," the lady's maid says.

The maid vanishes into the rather large kitchen and thinks about her mistress' current predicament. The many calls to the police station had turned up very little in the past few weeks of Ruth's daughter and Sally knew that things were not getting any better. She's very worried about the woman she works for. Mrs. Bukater hardly left the large apartment, except to sit on the balcony in the sunshine to cry or to take the time to herself. Mr. Hockley was hardly any help at all since he put in long hours at his steel company, leaving the poor, aging woman to her own devices. Sally hated to see her mistress in such distress, Sally, of course, was not a mother herself, but she couldn't imagine losing a child, never to be seen again. Ruth ate very little and would only drink water, it was also a challenge for the woman to sleep. Often times Sally would hear Mrs. DeWitt Bukater calling out for her daughter in the night. It saddened the lady's maid a lot, she just wished that the police would do something to end this poor woman's suffering.

Ruth sat by the open window to cool down from the unbearably hot day, she fans herself with a few sheets of paper and continues to stare out at the busy streets of New York below her. The woman never had the energy to do anything else. Once Rose was reported missing, Ruth's entire world collapsed around her. Many worries ran through her head, including that if Rose could not be found, this would be the end of their first-class life and their good family name would be dragged through the mud. She kept insisting to anyone who would listen that her daughter had been kidnapped and couldn't imagine what kind of torture her own flesh and blood was enduring. Perhaps she had been hit by a car, perhaps she was dead in a ditch somewhere, perhaps she was a prostitute on the streets, sold there by her captor. All these horrible scenarios ran through the poor woman's head which caused her to lay awake at night, crying and calling for her only child. She did consider the possibility that Rose had run off, but it seemed so unlikely, Rose's behavior had improved so much in the month leading up to her disappearance that Ruth had hoped that her daughter had finally seen the light and was willing to do what was best for her family. Guilt was her most prominent emotions. If only she hadn't been so hard on Rose, insisting that she watch what she ate and she'd stop complaining about Hockley. Her daughter had been behaving so well that Ruth felt she shouldn't have pushed her daughter so hard. The first-class woman blamed herself immensely.

When the maid brings the water, Ruth sips it quietly and stares out at the city landscape, wondering where her daughter was.

The telephone in the apartment rang shrilly, echoing into the room.

"Please answer that Sally, it's probably one of Mr. Hockley's business associates."

Ruth had long given up on the police force and the private investigator that they had hired to find Rose. Clearly, none of them cared enough to even attempt to find her only child and it angered her immensely.

"Yes ma 'me," the maid says and picks up the telephone.

"Hello?"

Ruth sighs and turns her attention back to the window.

"Oh, Mrs. Bukater?" Sally calls after hearing the good news, hardly able to contain her excitement. "It's the investigator man, he has some good news."

Ruth's heart soars with excitement and hope as she stands up with more energy than she's had in a quite some time. She rushes over to the phone and fumbles in excitement to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello Mrs. Bukater, I have good news about your daughter's disappearance."

"You have found her, oh thank the lord!" Ruth is now crying in joy.

"Yes I have and I have a message from her."

"You do?! That's wonderful! Is she with you, please put her on the phone!"

"She's not with me Mrs. Bukater, she is in New York at this moment and…" the PI pauses. "I think it would be best that you come to my office so I can explain and please come alone, per her request and do NOT tell Mr. Hockley about this."

Ruth is puzzled by this request, surely her daughter would want to see Caledon wouldn't she? Why wasn't she at the office? Perhaps Rose was being brought to the station as they were speaking. Ruth could hardly contain her joy; her daughter had been found at last!

"I will be right there," the woman says before hanging up the phone.

Ruth then immediately rushes to find her hat.

"Quickly Sally, I must meet the investigator at his office, I assume that Rose is being brought there as we speak!" Tears are running down the mother's face. She has the maid fix her hair and hat before grabbing her pocketbook and leaving the apartment.

…

Ruth rushes into the police station, past the many officers and convicted criminals surrounding her on her way to the third floor. She didn't even seem to notice anyone as she rushed down the hall. She didn't even bother to knock before bursting into the investigator's room.

"Where is she?" Ruth cries out. She looks around the room frantically in search of her daughter's red hair. Her heart sinks when she doesn't see Rose. She can feel tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hello Mrs. Bukater, please take a seat so I can explain everything." The man sits behind his desk, smoke billowing around his face as per usual, pouring himself a glass of whiskey

Ruth grabs a handkerchief and slowly sits down in the same chair that she'd sat in before when begging for the man's help. Ruth's mind is buzzing with questions and they all want to come out in a jumble of accusations and confused cries, but a small part of herself tells her to stay quiet and listen to what the man had to say.

"As you know, from the beginning I assumed that your daughter may have run away from home, but why that was was still a bit unclear to you. I learned from your interviews that Rose had not been happy with her life at all and had attempted to run away on multiple occasions onboard the _Titanic_ , correct?"

Ruth nods slowly, tears pouring from her eyes in grief and confusion.

"Well as I did some digging I discovered that your daughter had made some friends on the ship, friends whom she idolized and wanted to be like. She had also fallen for a boy yes?"

"Yes, a third class boy named…Jason…or…Joel…or…"

"Jack Dawson," the investigator corrects.

"Yes, but he didn't survive the sinking. Mr. Hockley checked the list of survivors and had seen a man buried at sea."

"I know he did, he told me so himself, but looks can be deceiving I'm afraid Mrs. Bukater. I did some research on her friends and found out that they had survived the sinking. I had to cover all possible leads Mrs. Bukater and so I went to question your daughter's friends and I found through a sheer series of unusual coincidences, Mr. Dawson, the friends and your daughter reunited."

Ruth sniffles a bit. She wants to ask so many questions at once, but all she can muster is a single strangled sob.

"And?" Ruth says quietly.

"And your daughter asked me to give you this, it should explain the rest."

The investigator hands over the envelope with Ruth's name on it.

"I will allow you some time alone to read it, I have to meet with the police chief privately. If you will excuse me."

The investigator then gets up and leaves the room with a fresh cigar in hand.

Ruth stares down at the envelope in her shaking hands. She wants more than anything to rip it open, but something is stopping her. Perhaps it is the fear of what she will find inside. A message from her daughter that she no longer loves her mother and has moved halfway across the world to escape. It became clear to Ruth that her daughter had run away and evidently did not want to be found. It broke Ruth's heart into a million pieces and yet, Rose did care enough to at least write to her mother, end her suffering of wonder and worry.

With shaky hands, Ruth opens the envelope. She recognized her daughter's handwriting.

 _Dear Mother,_

 _I've decided to write to you because I've heard that you are worried sick about me and staying in New York with my former fiancé. I cannot admit that I feel guilty about your current situation, but after much persuading, I've decided to write you this letter to let you know that I am okay. What happens next will be entirely up to you._

 _I would like to let you know that I am never coming home to Philadelphia. I hated that life and I never want to go back to it. I hated it so much that I attempted to end my life the night I met Mr. Dawson and invited him to the first class dinner. I feel that you should know the truth about how much my life had been ruined by your pressures and society. I also want you to know that I am never going to marry that bastard Cal Hockley and here is why._

 _The man does not treat me like a human being, but merely a possession and I certainly deserve far more than that. That man also has a short fuse and is abusive. I'll have you know that the bruise that appeared on my face the night of the sinking was put there by that awful man you wanted me to marry. I also want to let you know that the night the ship was going down, Hockley and his manservant abducted my friend's innocent sister in an attempt to lure us out of hiding. Once we fell for the trap, he threatened me with a knife and then shot my friend's new husband out of anger. He then proceeded to frame Mr. Dawson for the crime and stealing the Heart of the Ocean, which in turn, had him locked below decks while the ship was sinking. That is where I went when I left you at the lifeboats. I felt no remorse for leaving you there to ponder what you had done to drive your daughter away to rescue the man she truly loved. I did manage to save Mr. Dawson, but I could not part with him on the ship. Caledon discovered this and shot at us while chasing us into the sinking ship. I feel that you must know the truth so you realize how truly evil the man you are staying with is and I would fear for my life if I were you._

 _I wanted to let you know that I knew you were the one who told Mr. Hockley that I would be in New York for the dinner, but I actually want to thank you. If Mr. Hockley had not accompanied me, then I wouldn't have run from the dinner and been reunited with the love of my life. I also managed to find my friends again, my true friends, whom love and care about me much more than you ever did. All of us escaped that night and I've been staying with them ever since. I'm not going to tell you their names or where I'm staying in case that you insist on telling Caledon about my whereabouts. I hate the man and I fear for mine and my real fiancé's life._

 _I am going to marry Jack Dawson and there is absolutely nothing on this earth that will make you change my mind. We are going to live a happy and quiet life together, go wherever the wind takes us and raise our child. I am also carrying his child. You may call me a whore, a slut or whatever you'd like, but I simply do not care any longer. Your opinion does not matter to me. I am in charge of my own destiny._

 _Lastly, I've written this letter with an ultimatum for you and only you. Jack and I have discussed in detail about allowing you into our lives. I, of course, have refused outright, but my friends and fiancé have convinced me to consider allowing you into our lives again. They reason that you will be the only grandparent to our unborn child as Jack has lost both his parents in a fire, something you would have known if you had taken the time to get to know him properly._

 _If you choose to get in contact with me again, here are the conditions; you are to leave Caledon and never tell him that you know where I am. My friends, who are lawyers, have filed restraining orders against him to protect themselves, their young child, Jack, myself and our unborn child. If you tell Mr. Hockley anything, this will be the last time you will ever hear from me. You must end the engagement and even if that means you must sell our possessions and become a seamstress, so be it, but I will never have contact with him again. You have probably figured out that I could care less about the money and rather live among people who love me. Another condition is, you must treat Jack Dawson and my friends with the utmost respect, no matter what you may think of them. They have given me the love and respect I deserve, something you never gave me at all. A third condition is that you must call off this search for me, I am safe far away from the life I've lived. You must also not interfere with my life at all, you cannot tell me how to live my life or how to raise my child, you've had so much control over me for so long, I am taking it back._

 _If you can agree to these conditions, you can talk to the private investigator and we can arrange to meet at a separate location. If all goes well, I may begin to trust you again and you may be allowed into my life again._

 _If this is our last communication, then thank you for being my mother, despite how poor at that job you may have been, and wish you the best in all your future endeavors. If not, I hope that we may connect and meet to talk about the future and perhaps try again._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Rose Dawson_


	58. Chapter 57: Ruth's Choice

Chapter 57: Ruth's Choice

Ruth's mind has stopped. She had tears in her eyes. She re-reads the letter once more before beginning to cry. Tears had been a common feature on her aging face the past little while, so this was nothing new, but this time the tears were of confusion, not grief.

Her daughter had finally been found, or rather gotten in contact with her and demanded that Ruth gives up everything she knew for her to be a part of her daughter's life. Not only that, but she was engaged to that third-class boy…something Dawson and she was pregnant with his child…

Ruth's mind was overwhelmed with questions. Why was her daughter doing this? Didn't she care at all about the family name? Who were these friends that she was staying with? How had Mr. Dawson survived? Is what she said about Caledon true?

Ruth takes out a handkerchief and dabs her eyes, pulling herself together a bit. She was so confused and so distraught that she wanted to go home and think. She also wanted to find her daughter and hug her again. Rose had been missing over a month and a half and Ruth missed her little girl. Although they never got along that well, Rose was too much like her father, hot-headed and passionate; it was one of the reasons that she pushed Rose into the marriage with Caledon. All Ruth wanted was for her daughter to take care of and their lives would go on undisturbed. It had been sad when her husband passed on, but it only seemed to be getting worse afterward. If Mr. Hockley had not come along, Ruth would've surely died on the street of stress and grief and Rose would be forced into a life of scandal and most likely prostitution. No mother ever wanted that for her child. She knew Mr. Hockley offered the safety they needed and Rose would live a prosperous life…but now she pondered what Rose's letter said about her wanting to end her life and her foolish pursuit of a lower-class man that almost got her killed. And then she selfishly ran away weeks before the wedding with the same man and was living in this big city with strange friends and causing her a lot of grief and worry. Ruth's health had taken a nose dive and she had to go see a doctor, plus the news of Rose running away could not be hidden for long. The whole Philadelphia society was in an uproar, causing scandal and the smearing of their already precarious name. One of the reasons Ruth was hiding in New York was to avoid the scandal and find her daughter… She had faith that the private investigator could bring Rose home where she belonged, but now it was clear, she didn't want to, not ever. She was living a new life without her mother.

And even through everything that Rose had done to cause Ruth grief, she was still her daughter and every mother loved her child unconditionally and missed her when she was gone. There was a hole in her heart that could only be filled by seeing Rose again.

Ruth folds the paper neatly and places it in her pocketbook as the private investigator comes back. Ruth wipes her eyes once more before turning to face the man with a cloud of smoke over his face.

"Are you alright Mrs. DeWitt Bukater?"

"I…I suppose dear sir…"

"I can tell that this is not easy for you, finding out your daughter ran away…"

"It certainly is not…" Ruth sniffs.

"My sympathies ma' me and if I can say for you, I do hope that your daughter reconnects with you. I am no parent, but I know every child should have a mother in their life…"

Ruth stares at the man for a long few moments. She had always felt uncomfortable that this man never showed his face as he smoked those cigars and kept his identity from the world around him. Perhaps it was his own disguise…or perhaps it was a shield to hide from the pain of others.

"How can I be sure that you are sincere, I can't see your face and clearly all you would care about is the money you get," Ruth blurts out. She immediately regrets her choice. She was so overwhelmed by her situation that this man offering her sympathy when it was he didn't have any made her quite upset. She was acting like Rose. "I'm terribly sorry sir, that just slipped out."

The private investigator says nothing for a long moment. He peers through the smoke at this woman. By her statement alone, the man could tell that this woman was indeed like her daughter, just heavily suppressed inside of herself. Wanting to express her opinions when something upset her, and yet too polite to admit it. The man had learned a lot through his investigation and even though these two women were so different, wanting different things and walking on opposite sides of the train tracks, they did love each other.

The PI finishes the cigar in his mouth and then dabs it on a nearby ashtray as he had several strewn about his office. His hand hovers over his pocket for a moment, thinking about lighting another one, but as he considers this, he looks into the mother's tired green eyes… he hesitates. The smoke slowly dissipates from around his head and in the afternoon sun streaming through his blinds, Ruth DeWitt Bukater sees the man's face for the first time.

He's a tall man, with stubble around his very square jaw. He had bags under his soft blue eyes that had seen many sad things in his life and wrinkles indicating his aging face. His brow crinkles in the moment of stillness and his white blonde hair leans in with his expression. His entire face then moves to form a rather soft and sympathetic look. A look he often hid in his cloud of protection.

Ruth drinks in the face and found it so unusual. She had not pictured that this was the man behind the mask. She had expected a rough man, perhaps squinting a lot with a full beard and a grim and greasy face. The man in front of her was gentle and had a slight tinge of youthful curiosity in his expression. It had certainly taken her by surprise. He looked almost like her late husband, strong and yet gentle, it made her heart pound loudly in her ears for a few moment.

The two continued to stare at one another as the minutes ticked by slowly. Their connection grew deeper, one of perhaps understanding, but also of mutual respect. Ruth could now see that the man did have sympathy for and he was doing his best to comfort her by taking away the cloud of smoke.

"Is this better Mrs. Bukater?" he asks quietly.

Ruth opens her mouth to speak and then shuts it. She clears her throat and puts away her handkerchief.

"Y-Yes sir, thank you."

The private investigator says nothing more before going to his desk and pulling out a piece of paper and his fountain pen.

"How it goes from here is entirely up to you. If you would like to get in touch with your daughter, simply telegram me or give me a call. I will give you my home number in case you ever need me for something else. Do not worry about the money, I will bill Mr. Hockley, but if you do decide to close this case, it is by your authority and your authority only…" the man says.

He hands over the information and then gives the mother a sympathetic smile.

"I cannot pretend that I know what you are going through Mrs. Bukater, but I can say that you're are some of the lucky few of my clients that may have a happy ending to their story…" he reaches his hand out to offer her a goodbye handshake.

Ruth reluctantly lifts her gloved hand and accepts the man's offer.

"I wish you all the luck in the world," he says.

"T-thank you," Ruth whispers. She gets up to leave but she pauses at the door.

"Might I ask for your name?" she says softly.

"Henry, Henry Calvert."

…

Ruth flags a taxi home and goes into the apartment. Sally is there to greet her and politely asks how it went. Ruth merely gives a subtle nod before going out to the balcony to be alone.

Ruth sits in the same chair she had convened in many times over the past few weeks. In this chair, she had pondered where her daughter might be and all the worst-case scenarios had run through her head, but this time as she sat and watched the sun set behind the city's buildings she had many more things to ponder.

Ruth took out the letter again and read it several more times. The tears came back and Ruth thought all about her daughter. How selfish she was being…if at all. Had she ever thought of the consequences and how this would affect her own mother?

This question suddenly made Ruth think about her late husband, how he had been so determined and passionate in everything that he did. He hardly ever thought of the consequences of what he did and yet… it made him endearing to her. He was unpredictable at times, perhaps even a little stupid and still, it entertained her, it's what kept her amused on those nights when they were alone together. His willingness to crack a few jokes or fold a swan out of a fancy cloth napkin, just to push her buttons. He usually only got a rise from Ruth, but it amused her to no end after she was alone… Also, the loving connection he had with Rose, something she had longed for and dare she admit it, jealous of. Rose certainly was her father's child, she wanted to explore and see new things and she also knew how to push Ruth over the edge and still… Ruth enjoyed it on some level if she looked deep inside herself. Rose always wanted to be independent, just like her father had been when he ran his own company. Even though it left them with debts, he had the strength and perseverance to carry on and if Ruth thought hard, the collapse of his company might have been what killed him in the end. The stress and the grief of losing his life's ambition took the spark he had that drew Ruth to him like a moth to a flame. In those final moments, as Ruth sat next to him, she saw the shine slowly extinguish from his eyes before he shut them and breathed his final breath. Ruth felt like she had died after that and all she had left of him was his hot-headed little girl.

Except, Rose wasn't a little girl anymore. She was a woman and like her father, she was taking control of her own life. She was engaged to a man who must have some sort of spark that drew her to him and she was living with people who made her happy. If Ruth was honest with herself, she was relieved that Rose was not a prostitute on the street or being held captive somewhere, she was with people that she loved… Ruth feels anger inside her, but more jealous anger rather than rage. A mother should be able to make her daughter feel happy and loved.

Ruth read over Rose's conditions several more times. The last few could be difficult for her, but much easier than the first request. To leave Caledon and the wealth he would provide was almost unthinkable and Ruth was still not convinced that the man was dangerous. He was offering to give Rose everything she ever wanted. He had treated them to the trip on Titanic, despite how it turned out, he was paying for their mansion in Philadelphia and most of the wedding. He was heading the search for Rose, was a respected member of society and the perfect husband for her daughter. How could Rose possibly say such things about this man…?

The door behind her slams loudly. Ruth jumps in her seat. She slowly turns to see Caledon looking very angry and tired. She was about to get up and greet him when the man suddenly yells out for his manservant, so loudly that he most surely would wake the neighbors. The manservant comes and brings Caledon a bottle of whiskey and a glass and ordered the man to fetch the paper. Cal tosses his coat to the floor and puts his feet up on the desk. He orders Sally into the room and tells her very rudely to pour him a glass. Sally is rather startled and quite frightened by Mr. Hockley's display as was Ruth. Sally's hand shakes as she attempts to pour him a drink, but she ends up spilling some on his suit. This sends Cal into a vicious tantrum. He picks up the glass and tosses it against the wall. He shouts obscenities at the maid, telling her this was an Italian suit and would cost more than her precious life. He then raises his hand as if he is about to strike her, but Sally shrinks away before he has the chance, going onto her knees and apologizing profusely. He orders her to clean up the mess he made, grabs the paper and the entire bottle of whiskey before storming up to his room. Ruth is utterly stunned. Her heart is beating so loudly she can hardly hear Sally crying as she cleans up the mess. She herself was crying, her sympathy went out to the maid, but it was mostly at being proven wrong

Rose was right. The man was violent… and very rude. He had little respect for anyone and only cared about himself. He didn't care how he treated women, if he got what he wanted and certainly would not be above striking anyone. Ruth feels tears in her eyes and her heart breaks out of betrayal. Mr. Hockley was their safety net and a man whom she deemed worthy of her daughter, but now it seemed he would never be worthy of anyone. He was a monster on the inside, masking it behind this cloud of wealth and a good name. He was the opposite of the private investigator and would not be a good choice for anyone.

Ruth looks down at her letter and wipes a few tears from her eyes. Now that she had seen what was the truth, despite how much she hated being proved wrong, Rose's second request would be much easier to fulfill now. She enters the apartment quietly and goes over to Sally, who is sobbing and very shaken by the ordeal.

"Sally…" Ruth says.

"Y-Yes ma 'me,"

"Please pack the bags, we're going home."


	59. Chapter 58: Less Restraint

Chapter 58: Less Restraint

Caledon Hockley that was not a happy man. Life seemed to be continually getting worse. First, his father berated him for spending so much money on a private investigator, then his meetings at work went horribly wrong. One of his steel plants were threatening to go on strike unless they were paid better wages and he tore his newest business suit. When he got home, he'd discovered that his fiancée's mother had left with her maid, leaving a note saying that she needed to go back Philadelphia to take care of some things and that they'd be in touch very soon.

Confused, Cal sat down on his couch.

"Riptide!" He calls. "Please bring me a bottle of whiskey and the paper."

"Would you like a glass, sir?" Riptide asks as he finished hanging up his master's coat.

"Just the bottle!" Cal demands.

Riptide does as he is told. Cal looks at the letter Ruth left him. He's very bewildered that she left so suddenly. Her grief over Rose had made her very frail and he couldn't imagine that she would ever want to leave New York until her daughter was found unless…

Unless she knew something, he didn't. Cal takes a long swig of whiskey and thinks it over. Obviously, Ruth was hiding something. Maybe she did know where Rose was but was keeping it to herself so she could continue using his money to pay off their debts. Perhaps Rose was back in Philadelphia and was attempting to find a new husband. He shakes the thought from his mind as the private investigator would have called them if he had found Rose unless he did and Ruth didn't tell him.

Riptide brings over the mail to Cal.

"There are a couple yellow envelopes here sir, I believe they are from the courthouse."

"Why the hell would the courthouse be giving me papers?"

"Heck if I know sir."

Cal rips open the first envelope.

 _To_ _Mr. Caledon Hockley_ _from the Judicial Court of New York City_ ,

 _This is an order of permanent protection against you from the home of Ms. Emma Carson and Peter Whitman. Due to their reports of physical violence towards them and the alleged abduction of Miss Sybil Carson, you have been ordered by the courts to never come within approximately 700 feet of their established home and place of work. Any contact between the subjects or any of their offspring is strictly prohibited. Violation of this order will result in immediate arrest and fines of up to $200,000 with the risk of prosecution from the victims._

 _Judicial Court of New York City_

"SON OF A…!"

Cal's voice rings out so loudly that most of the people across the street could hear him. He hurls the whiskey bottle across the room and it smashes against the wall. He crumples the letter in his fist and throws that away from himself too. He screams every obscenity that he can think of at the top of his lungs so that God himself could hear them. Riptide's eyes are wide in fear and horror; he merely leans against the wall and pretends to be invisible as his master continues his rage. Cal smashes an antique vase against the wall and then kicks over the coffee table, sending everything else to the floor. He walks up to the wall and manages to put his fist through it. He practically pulls out his hair in agony. His eyes burned with angry tears and his throat was going explode from his outbursts. His head ached fiercely with the amount of rage that seemed to be coursing through it.

The two brats were alive as well as the baby! That couldn't be possible, Cal made sure he shot the boy in the leg, knowing he would bleed out and he saw the girl go over the railing of the ship. There was no way in hell she could have survived and yet, he was served with a restraining order to stay away from them on the threat of arrest and a ruined reputation. Those two had been thorns in his side from the very beginning, filling Rose's head up with silly fantasies. He thought abducting the infant got the point across as well as the shooting, but apparently not. He stomps on the balled-up letter. He presses his hands against the wall as if he could push it away from himself and he sucks in a sharp breath.

He sees the same coloured unopened envelope laying on the ground now, staring at him…mocking him. He didn't want to open it. What was it now? The brats were going to press charges for something they couldn't prove and that happened in international waters?

He storms over and opens the other envelope. A similar restraining order only from…

ROSE and JACK DAWSON!

The bastard was alive. That couldn't be possible! I saw with his own two eyes someone being buried at sea. He wasn't on the list of survivors. God must be cursing him in some way. WHY DID HE DESERVE THIS PAIN?!

Cal's entire body seems to explode in pain when the realization hits him.

SHE RAN AWAY WITH HIM! He must have been at that dinner. Damn him for not paying more attention to the crowds. He should have handcuffed her to him to ensure she didn't run away. He should have beaten the truth out of the maid. He should've gone searching for her himself. Cal punches a second hole in the wall and shouts more obscenities. He goes into the kitchen and practically tears the place up. Kicking over chairs, smashing dishes and anything else in sight. He takes his reign of terror all over the apartment. Nothing is safe.

It's a long time before the place becomes a little bit quieter. By the time the rage has worked its way through his system, the entire apartment is a wreck, looking like it had been hit by a tornado and a hurricane.

Cal sits in the middle of the kitchen floor among the shattered plates and glasses. His clothes a wrinkled mass, his fists black and blue from punching things and his apartment a total war zone. Cal pants as the adrenaline slowly settle in his system, he takes several strangled breaths as he tries to calm down a bit. His mind beings to clear just enough that he can start thinking again.

He wanted so badly to find those stupid brats and that whore and gutter rat and shoot their brains out, but he couldn't, by law he couldn't, without the risk of arrest and he'd already spent enough time in prison. His father would disown him if he was ever taken to court and that was something he simply could not have.

Cal assumes that Ruth knew about this and left. She knew Rose was alive and living freely with the bastard of a man. He had wasted all that money on a private investigator who did absolutely nothing in bringing his fiancée back to him. He wanted to confront the old woman on what she knew, but slowly, new ideas form in his head.

He could sever the engagement, buy their property and put that woman on the street. He never knew why he put up with the whiny, weak Ruth in the first place. She was a nuisance, another thorn in his side.

He smiles a bit at the thought of his fiancée's mother becoming a seamstress or something even more awful. But then there was the problem of Rose and…Dawson.

He knew he had to show them that he always won. He would **_not_** be made a fool of by a bunch of brats… he always won. No doubt the two were back together and would be likely getting married soon. He had to put a stop to it. He had Rose first and he was not going down without a fight. He wanted to put a wrench into their plans, ruin their happiness, make them feel the pain that he felt. He would make them pay…

The only problem was… he couldn't by law. He couldn't lay a hand on any of them. He knew that they were in New York since the courts here in the city had served the orders. He needed a new angle. He needed a new way to get around the law. He would not be stopped. He had to do this quietly and without notice by his father or anyone else…

Well, **_almost_** anyone else…

Cal smiles.

"Riptide…" he says. "I have something for you to do."


	60. Chapter 59: A Step and a Kick

Chapter 59: A Step and a Kick

Rose runs a hand through her curly hair and lets out a long sigh.

"What is it, Rose?" Emma asks, coming down to the kitchen in the morning.

Rose is sitting at the kitchen table amongst bridal magazines and other papers. She's in a thin nightie that stretches with her baby bump and keeps her cool in the hot August air. Sybil sits in her high chair, sucking on a spoon. Jack and Peter had already left for work and Emma had decided to take the day off to prepare for her finals and spend some time with her sister.

"It's all this wedding planning," Rose groans. "When it was my wedding to Cal, my mother took care of the details, now that it's mine… it's a little overwhelming."

"I hear you sister," Emma says, pouring her sister some juice and then starting to make iced tea for the both them.

"Why couldn't it be simple and spontaneous like your wedding on the bow?"

"Well, we certainly had a lot of help from folks down in third class," Emma comments, grabbing ice from the ice box. "Peter and I just wanted it to be you guys and the pastor but they insisted on helping and attending."

"I remember," Rose sighs. The two take a short moment of remembrance for those who didn't survive.

"Anyway, it is technically my wedding too. I really wish I could help you more, but with finals coming up you know…"

"I understand," Rose says, looking through another bridal magazine. "But it's also insane with how much it costs, the dress, the hall, the cake, the food, the church and everything in between."

"Well we have part of that list figured out," Emma says, bringing the ice tea to the table. "Holly agreed to help bake a wedding cake, Carl might be able to find you a nice place for the reception and I think Jack might talk to the pastor he worked with if that's okay with you of course."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Rose says. "I'd be honoured to be married by the man who took care of Jack when I couldn't"

"And vice versa," Emma smiles.

"I just don't want Jack to spend any of that money he made. We need to save it for a house and other things."

"Right, but again, Peter and I are paying for half of this too, don't forget. Money isn't usually a problem… We can pay for it all if…"

"No way!" Rose insists. "You guys have already done so much for us already; We don't want to impede on you anymore with this wedding."

Emma smiles, knowing there's no point in trying to argue with the red-head or her fiancé. The two had their pride and could never repay their debt of gratitude to her and Peter.

"Well you do have your own auction money," Emma points out, looking through another catalog

"Yes…" Rose says, biting her lip, looking at a fancy bridal gown. None of them were to her taste. They were either too frilly, too lacey, too big, too long, too expensive or wouldn't be able to fit over her baby bump. Nothing simple and practical, but elegant.

"I can't find any dress that I like," Rose sighs. "I wish I had your situation, all you must do is wear your mother's dress."

"Don't sugar coat it," Emma grimaces. "I still have a blood stain to get rid of and a lot of patching up to do. Sea water does not mix with lace very well."

Rose gets up to distract herself from her current dilemmas. Her back was starting to hurt more and more as the baby grew. She had been to the doctor not long ago and everything was as it should be, but Rose was always tired now, or hungry, her feet were sore and she was feeling hot all the time, which mixed with this summer weather did not help at all. She goes to the front door and sees that the mail is here. She walks out into the bright sunlight and grabs the envelopes from the metal box.

She walks back to the house, looking for anything interesting when some familiar handwriting catches her eye. Rose drops the mail like it's a venomous snake and gasps very loudly, grabbing the door for support. Emma hears her distress and races to her.

"What is it, Rose? Is it the baby?"

Rose has turned very pale and she's sitting on the floor in the front hall, her back against the door. She's shaking slightly and her eyes are filling with tears. Emma is very worried until she sees the scattered mail. She leans down and picks up the envelope Rose threw down in shock.

"It's from the private investigator…" Emma says quietly and then swallows. She can see the look of fear on Rose's face.

"C-Cal," Rose stammers.

Emma squints at the envelope for a moment and frowns. She tears it open and finds many sheets of paper. The first is written in blue fountain pen and from the private investigator.

 _Dear Ms. Dawson,_

 _I'm sorry I've had to contact you and your fiancé again, especially with the risk of Mr. Hockley lurking around, but there has been contacting from Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. She sent me a letter and asked me to send it to you. I apologize for digging through your fiancé's file at the station to get the address, but I did see that it said the letter was important. I hope you can find peaceful ground with your mother and wish you the best of luck._

 _Detective Henry Calvert_

"What's wrong, Rose?" Emma asks quietly. "It's about your mother."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Rose whimpers. Tears are slowly sliding down her face and she's pulled herself up into a ball.

"Why are you afraid?" Emma asks. She goes to sit down next to her friend.

"W-well, t-t-to be honest, I was hoping she wouldn't try to contact me. I was hoping she would just let me live my own life… Why can't she just let me go?! She's ruined my life for seventeen years. She's going to make me go back to Cal. She's going to make me get rid of the baby and leave Jack… She's always been like this… She can't help but destroy any happiness I might have made for myself. You know I only ever say her once a day growing up? I was always brought in by a nanny and was merely there to be shown off to her uptight friends. I could probably count on one hand the number of times she kissed me… I once drew her a picture and she threw it away when I wasn't looking… Oh God Emma, why can't she just leave me alone?!" Rose buries her head in her arms and continues to sob.

Emma puts her arm around Rose. Clearly, the relationship between her and her mother was very strained and it was, in fact, something that Rose feared, but also resented. Emma couldn't put herself in Rose's shoes, she'd had a loving and caring mother whom she was devastated to see pass away, but Emma knew nothing about first class life and how mothers of that class acted. She could only imagine what Rose might've felt, growing up, being controlled by a shallow woman who only wanted to marry her daughter off for money rather than happiness. Emma wished that Rose had had her mother instead, so she wouldn't be so hurt when her mother contacted her.

"Maybe she doesn't want to leave you alone," Emma says gently. "Maybe this letter…" it suddenly all becomes clear to her. "Didn't you say your mother could only contact you if she left Cal behind…?"

Rose's head perks up.

"Y-yes…"

"Well then," Emma says, offering Rose the envelope.

Rose stares at it for a long moment and then shakes her head sadly. "It's probably her last desperate plea for me to come home."

"Rose, I know I don't know your mother…"

"I hope you never have to," Rose interrupts.

"I may not know your mother personally, but I do know what it's like to lose someone you love and have a child go missing… It's devastating Rose, it makes you feel like your life will never be whole again. You don't know who you are any longer and your life sort of stops."

Rose looks at her friend with her sad green eyes. She remembers what it was like when she thought she lost Jack and after her father died, she thought she would never be whole again.

"Now, I know you're not dead, but you may as well be to your mother. Having a child turn their back on their parents is heart-wrenching, it means that the parents have failed at that lasting vow they made the moment they first laid eyes on you… The vow to always protect you and raise you with love and care… and never let you out of their sight…" Emma gets up quickly and finds her family portrait. She brings it over to Rose.

The four people staring back at them look happy, the father taking a rather tall and protective stand over the family and the mother lovingly cradling her two daughters, affection in her eyes and love in her heart. Rose feels that pang of jealousy again, wanting so badly to be in Emma's shoes in terms of family. She, herself, did have an affectionate father, but her mother was cold and unemotional. It made Rose sick and yet… it probably did hurt her mother when she ran away, gone without a trace, away from the protection her mother was trying to provide. She knew deep down that her mother did love her and care for her, she just had an unusual way of showing it. Tears flood Rose's eyes once more, she puts her hand on her bulging belly and traces the child inside her. She needed to learn from her mother's mistakes, provide the love she was never given and still… did this letter mean that her mother was trying to reach out to her, saying she loved her and wanted to be a part of her life? Some large lump forms in Rose's throat, her mind whirling with the thoughts of what the letter might say.

"You're right Emma," Rose says after a little while. "She may not be the best mother in the world, but she's still the woman who loves me."

Emma smiles and pulls her friend into a full hug.

"I want to wait until Jack gets home and then I'll read the letter."

"Of course," Emma nods. Just then Sybil starts to shriek, wondering where everyone has gone. The two girls smile and pick up the fallen male.

…

When the men get home, they all spend the evening on the porch, drinking iced tea and talking about their day. Sybil also practices walking on the front lawn, with Emma holding both her hands, teaching her the rhythm of walking upright.

Eventually, the tot falls asleep and Jack and Rose are left on the porch alone.

"Jack?" Rose asks gently.

"Yes, Rose Petal?" Jack says with a smile. This was his new nickname for her and Rose couldn't help but blush the same colour of that petal every time he said it.

"I-I got a letter from the private investigator today and it has a letter from my mother…"

"Oh," Jack says quietly. He reaches over and grabs her hand.

"I-I wanted to wait until you got home to tell you and then ask you that if, and this is a big **_if_** , she wants to be a part of our lives… would you be okay with that?"

Jack is quiet for a moment as he thinks it over. Ruth was never very nice to him, she clearly thought her was lower than boat scum, but she was nothing compared to Cal. He kind of wished that his own parents were alive, they were very loving and if they were still around, they wouldn't even have to worry about Ruth DeWitt Bukater at all. They would have put that high-class woman to shame. He was sure that they would have accepted Rose with open arms, no doubt his mother would try to bake Rose cookies or fresh bread to welcome her into the family and his father would entertain his fiancée with funny stories and his whistling talents. He might have even tried to take her fishing. Jack was lucky to have such great parents and the happy memories that came flooding back made him miss them a lot. He was lucky he got his fifteen years with them, if at all. He wished beyond anything that they could be here right now, but he knew that fate had intervened and took them away from Earth, hopefully to a happier place. Ruth was hardly the ideal choice for a mother-in-law, much less a grandparent, but he couldn't imagine the child in Rose growing up without any grandparents at all. He had two grandmothers growing up and he had learned that Rose also had two, both had fond memories of each and knew their child needed someone to learn from and someone to say "nana."

"I would be okay with it," Jack finally says. "I'll admit I'm not thrilled, but again she has not control over me or you…or our baby." Jack puts his hand on her swollen stomach. Rose smiles and then kisses Jack.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" she asked.

"You tried to jump off the back of the ship and I saved you, I have to say you're pretty darn lucky."

Rose smiles once more. She then looks at the envelope in front of her. With shaking hands, Rose pulls out the sheets of paper.

"It's okay Rose," Jack says gently. He wraps his arms around her expanding waist and rests his head on her shoulder. "I'm right here."

Rose begins to read.

 _Dearest Rose,_

 _I hope that you at least read this once and if you choose to ignore it, I can die knowing that I tried. I just wanted you to know that I have cut ties with Mr. Hockley and moved back home to Philadelphia. Well, what was once home... The inevitable happened and as I predicted, our belongings and the home had to be auctioned off to pay the debts. Sally, our new maid. agreed to help continue serving for a few weeks while I find a place to live. I've gotten in touch with Margret Brown and she agreed to give me a place stay. I'm considering a small apartment down by the Philadelphia harbour. Your father always loved the sea and it will make me feel close to him again. It certainly not ideal, but I managed to make some money from the auction, enough to purchase something small, but I must find a job soon._

 _I know you are probably thinking that I deserve this and I do. I know I have never been a good mother if I can even earn that title, but I wanted to let you know that I am sorry. I am sorry for pressuring you into that marriage and I am truly sorry for making your time living with me unbearable. I have seen Mr. Hockley for who he truly is, a monster with money and now I fully understand why you never want to marry him. I am sorry I was forcing you onto this cruel and heartless man. I know you may never forgive me, but at least you now know that I am sorry._

 _I just wanted to let you know that I was overjoyed that you contacted me. To hear from my daughter, whom I thought had been kidnapped, and tell me that she was safe gave me great relief. I am now able to sleep better and I've gained back the weight I've lost. All a mother ever wants is for her daughter to be safe and I want to know that I'm happy that you're happy. During the time, you were missing, I blamed myself and thought God was punishing me for something. In the end, I think he was teaching me a lesson, a lesson to accept my daughter and change my ways to benefit, not just you, but myself as well._

 _I have been able to do a lot of thinking during these last few weeks and after reading your letter so many times that I know it by heart, I want you to know that I would like to be a part of my grandchild's life. I know that you may never forgive me, but I hope that I might be able to start over with him or her. I would also like to start all over with you and Mr. Dawson as well if you both will let me. I want to be able to die knowing that you knew that I loved you and that you were happy and if Mr. Dawson and this new life makes you happy, I am willing to accept that._

 _I do not know if you will ever end up reading this, or you will burn it in the dead of night, but I wanted you, my dear daughter is that I love you and I always have. You were your father's shining light and now I realize that you are mine as well. I am sorry it took me so long to realize. If you would like, I was hoping to visit you and Mr. Dawson sometime in the future. I also have some of your things that I managed to save from the auction, including some of your toys that I know your child will love._

 _If you can accept my apology, please write back to Henry Calvert and he can send it to my new address. I hope I can see you soon my beloved daughter. If not, I love you until the day I die._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Ruth DeWitt Bukater_

Rose looks up at Jack with tears in her eyes. Her mind swirled with many emotions which were expressed in her face. Jack takes his turn reading the letter while Rose processes her mother's words. Did she mean what she said? Was she truly sorry? With her mother, it was hard to tell.

Rose wipes her eyes as Jack finishes the letter. He pulls his fiancée into his lap and cradles her as she cries quietly to herself. She embraces him and wishes that her decision could already be made. Her mother certainly wasn't perfect, but it appears that she might be trying to change for her, for their child. Rose places her hand on her bump and suddenly she feels something inside her.

"Jack!" Rose gasps.

"What is it?"

"The baby," she says. "I think it moved."

Jack puts his hand on her stomach and they wait. Within a few moments, there was another distinct bump.

"Oh my God!" Jack practically yells. "He or she kicked!"

Rose's eyes flood with happy tears and a huge smile breaks her clouded expression of confusion. Jack soon begins crying as the baby continues to kick quite hard against her stomach. Her heart pounding in joy. The two begin to laugh loudly. Emma and Peter come down to see what all the noise is about and they too feel the baby's excitement.

Rose continues to cry in joy, she had life in her, precious life that was going to come into the world loved and happy… and she supposes that is with her mother included. She tells the others her decision.

"Let's ask what the baby thinks," Peter grins. "Two kicks for yes, one for no." And they all laugh.

…

Several weeks have passed as Rose waits by the window, Jack's arms around his family, giving her the support she needed for what was coming. Emma made some last-minute preparations for their guest and even made some lemonade. All of them were dressed nicely and presentable, but Rose said not to go too fancy. Her mother needed to accept them for who they were, not for what they were pretending to be.

A yellow cab pulls up in front of the house

Ruth pulls herself out of the taxi and slowly makes her way up the path, Rose watching from the window, her heart pounding in her ears, or that might just be the baby kicking. Her mother is dressed rather plainly but still, manages to keep her first-class poise as she always did. She carried a small suitcase and seemed to be fighting back tears. She composed herself before knocking at the door.

Emma answers it with a bit of a forced smile. "Hello Mrs. DeWitt Bukater, it's nice to finally meet you."

"You must be Emma; it is lovely to meet you too."

Emma steps aside to allow the woman inside. Peter comes over with Sybil. "This is Peter my fiancé," Emma says, allowing Peter to shake Ruth's hand. "And my sister Sybil."

"Oh what a darling little child," Ruth says. Her green eyes take in the house, obviously judging it on whether it was suitable for Rose. "You have a lovely home." It certainly wasn't a mansion, but it was comfortable.

Then Rose and Ruth's eyes meet. Ruth begins to tear up.

"Hello Rose," she croaks.

"Hello Mother,"


	61. Chapter 60: Try for a New Beginning

Chapter 60: Try for a New Beginning

"Would you like some iced tea Mrs. DeWitt Bukater?" Emma asks.

Ruth has come to sit in the living room, in a chair, while Jack and Rose sit together on the couch. Sybil sits on the floor playing and Emma is trying to prepare drinks for the guests to get rid of some of the awkward tension.

"N-no thank you, my dear," Ruth says. "Just a glass of water please."

"Jack? Rose? Iced tea?" Emma asks.

"Yes, please," Rose says.

"Make mine a Long Island," Jack whispers in Rose's ear. "I'm going to need it." Rose tries to hide her smile. He then speaks up. "I'd like some too Em."

Ruth swallows hard and tries to make herself comfortable. The living room is presentable; plenty of furniture, a fireplace, a throw rug, lamps, drapes, and vases. Not all of it is coordinated and it is a little messy, but Ruth can excuse that with a small child in the house. The atmosphere is bright and welcoming, certainly not the DeWitt Bukater mansion, but at least Rose had a roof over her head.

Rose can hardly look at her mother. She's spent so much time trying to escape Ruth's influence and here she is, sitting in the living room of her friend's house, a place Rose thought she could live a free life, at least until her and Jack got a place of her own. Waves of emotions wash over her; fear, anger, nervousness, hatred, guilt, a bit of happiness and everything in between. Rose immediately regrets inviting her mother here. She just wanted sanctuary, away from the life she loathed and her mother was a constant reminder of that. The baby is also continually kicking her, making her even more uncomfortable, but also reminding her of why she is doing this in the first place. Jack holds her hand, giving her a bit of comfort and reassurance. If he is here, she can do this, at least is what she keeps telling herself.

Emma comes in with the tray of drinks and hands them out to everyone. She then sits next to Peter on an adjacent couch.

Emma clears her throat.

"So Mrs. Bukater, did you have an okay trip?"

Ruth is startled by the questions and sips her water before answering.

"Y-Yes, I did, the train ride was alright, but the taxi ride was a bit rough with all the noonday traffic."

Rose bites her lip hard. The group is forced into another awkward silence.

Ruth swallows and turns to Peter. "S-So what do you do for a living Mr.…uh…"

"Whitman," Peter prompts. "Peter Whitman, and I am a lawyer."

"Oh…" Ruth says in surprise. "That must be an interesting profession."

"It can be," Peter admits. "Sometimes it is a bit boring, there is always lots of paperwork to do."

"I can imagine," Ruth says. "My late husband was a business man, he… was somewhat successful to a point as I am sure Rose has told you. Tell me do you own the law firm?"

"No actually, Emma does."

Ruth nearly drops her drink in shock and cannot help but gasp at this statement. Her face immediately hardens in disapproval. Rose's teeth dig deeper into her lip in anxiety and she's holding back her anger towards her mother. Rose knew that Ruth was very close minded and saw women as things to be desired and to be married off to men, meaning she would be very shocked that a woman owns the company instead of a man.

Emma, however, comes to the rescue. "My father originally owned the company, but he passed away several months ago. Since all that is left is me and Sybil, the entire company was willed to me. It's okay, though, Peter and I will be joint partners when we get married."

Ruth's harden face softens just a little bit.

"I'm sure you will do quite well together," Ruth manages to say. The words from Rose's letter about not judging her friends echo in her mind.

"Thank you…"

"And… Mr. … Dawson, what do you do now?" Ruth asks, her stomach turning with nerves.

"I work at the police station," Jack says, feeling just a nervous. At least now, he had a stable job and a home, not the penniless artist he was at the dinner on _Titanic_. He knew Ruth would never approve of his choice of job, but at least he can reassure the woman that he could care for Rose and their baby. Plus, without her snooty friends around, Ruth would not be motivated to try and humiliate him. He was surrounded by friends and he knew if Ruth was disrespectful, Emma and Peter would defend him and Rose would certainly tell her mother off. "I work as a sketch artist."

Ruth bites her own lip very hard, hard enough to bleed but remains silent. She knew she had to keep her opinions to herself, especially since her daughter was going to marry this man. Of course, it is not the ideal profession she would like Rose's future husband to have, at least he was employed and as far as she could tell, he was good to Rose.

"How nice," Ruth says quietly.

Sybil suddenly squeals from the floor, cutting the tension in the room. Emma scoops her sister into her arms.

"What a lovely child," Ruth says. "She is quite beautiful."

"Thank you, she looks exactly like my mother, but she's also quite feisty like my father."

"She has a pair of lungs too," Peter adds.

"How old is she?"

"Almost nine months old."

"Crawling?"

"All over the place, none of us can keep up with her anymore," Emma says. "She also gets into everything."

"Rose was like that as a child as well," Ruth says. "She never wanted to sit and be quiet like a lady, she wanted to get dirty and run about. She always wanted to see everything and often got in the way of parties, therefore she had a nanny at the time to tame her and teach her manners."

Rose swallows hard.

"Do you have a nanny?" Ruth asks.

"No, uh actually Rose takes care of Sybil most days," Emma says, knowing that Ruth is pushing Rose to her breaking point.

"Really?" Ruth says in shock. "I can now understand why Wendy gave you all those lessons Rose, to teach you to run a household, become a housewife."

Rose is fighting tears now.

"It's good practice for when they have their own baby," Emma says.

"Yes, of course, and their own house I imagine. Perhaps a nice apartment… or in a neighbourhood where a child can mingle with others. And I imagine that Rose will be staying home with the baby?"

"Just until she can get a job," Emma says, trying to keep the conversations as pleasant as possible. "She's hoping to be an actress."

"You still have that silly fantasy, Rose?" Ruth says sternly.

Rose gets up after that and immediately heads upstairs. Tears are in her eyes now and she slams the door when she gets to her room.

Rose's face is flushed and soaked with tears when she lays on top of her bed. She's so embarrassed by all of this. Of course, her mother would never approve of any of this, her life, her choice of husband, her friends, anything. Nothing was ever good enough for her mother and here she was embarrassing Rose in front of her friends, her own friends, who treated her like family. Rose places her hand on her belly and holds it tight.

There's a knock at the door.

"It's Jack," a soft voice says.

"It's open," Rose whispers.

Jack comes in and his heart breaks at the sight of his fiancée, broken and upset. He immediately rushes over to her and wraps his arms around her. He pulls her into his lap.

"Shhh, it's okay Rose."

"I'm sorry Jack, I really am…" Rose whimpers.

"You have nothing to be sorry about Rose petal," Jack says, kissing her head.

"I'm the one who brought her here, I'm the one she gave birth to, none of you should have to suffer…"

"We're suffering together Rose," Jack says. "Besides, it's actually a lot easier to tolerate her without the other snooty first-class assholes."

Rose tries to smile but continues to weep.

"She's never going to change," Rose whines.

"We can't expect her to," Jack murmurs.

"It's just that nothing is ever good enough for her, nothing! And I am so very tired of trying to impress her. It's wearing me out, Jack. I just can't stand it anymore, it's torture. I can't act like everything is forgiven and she never did anything wrong. She made my life a living hell and she still is! She's never going to approve of anything we do and she'll just discourage us. And I don't want our baby to be exposed to this, to be put down and told he or she cannot achieve their dreams… and I don't want to turn into her…if I did…" Rose sobs. She's worried Jack might leave her.

"Rose look at me," Jack says. He lifts her chin in his hand. "You were no picnic either when I met you. You were a selfish and spoiled little rich girl, but I stayed by your side. I was willing to save you because I knew you didn't belong. I knew you could change, I saw something that no one else could see at the time… I saw love and that spark of passion. That is what set you apart from all the other rich people. You're nothing like your mother, not then, not now, not ever. It's what made me fall in love with you and I promise…" Jack puts his hand on her stomach. "You will never turn into her. You're you Rose, and if your mother can't accept that, then… that's her problem, but I and this baby love you for who you are, not who anyone expects you to be…"

Rose reaches up and pulls Jack into a long kiss. She feels better with the love of her life in her arms. She loved him too, for who he was. She envies him for being so free, so strong, he didn't care what anyone thought of him and no one expected him to be anything. She knew she didn't have that luxury as much, but clearly, Jack saw that she didn't need to change for anyone at all.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jack smiles.

Jack gets up and he sees Ruth standing in the doorway. He sees tears on her face and he realizes that she's been listening.

"Hello," Jack says. Rose looks up to see her mother. She immediately wants to get mad at her, but the look on her mother's face makes her stop short. The look on her mother's face was one she hadn't seen before. It's a look of sadness, but also love. It's a soft look and it looks okay on her, making her look like a concerned mother.

"M-Mr. Dawson. I-I'm sorry…I"

"Please call me Jack, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater…"

Ruth nods. "M-may I speak to my daughter for a moment?"

"Sure," Jack nods. He kisses Rose once more and then allows Ruth into the room. He shuts the door quietly behind him.

Ruth sits on the edge of the bed. She gazes into her daughter's green eyes for a moment, her husband's eyes and she begins to cry.

"I-I am s-so very sorry Rose," Ruth weeps. "I'm so sorry for what I said and for everything I put you through. There is no excuse for my behaviour. Sometimes I wish I could shut off my judgments and statements, but sometimes they just come out… I know I've likely ruined the chance you'll ever accept me into your life, but I want you to know… I love you, Rose, I always have, I just… I just don't have a very good way to show it. I know what I've done to you is hardly forgivable, but I wanted you to know that I am trying to meet your demands. I do want to be a part of your life…"

Rose slowly reaches out and grabs her mother's hand. The fragile woman shakes in her grasp.

"I've just only ever been raised one way and I thought that was the proper way to raise you. Your father and I never really had the love that you and Mr. Dawson have…"

"Jack," Rose says quietly.

"Right, Jack. I really, truly am sorry Rose," Ruth says through her tears. "It's just a lot of change at once and I really do not want to lose you. I've already lost your father, but I can't lose you. It's just when I see how happy you are and how loved you are, it makes me very jealous and very guilty that I never gave you that growing up. You were always with nannies and I said I never had time for you. And now here you are, with a family that loves you and a man who respects you and loves you more than I probably ever did. I'm proud of you Rose and I'm glad you ran away from that monster of a man and found someone who cares for you. I know this isn't the life I imagined for you, but I see that you are happy and…I love that…to be honest I want that too. I want to get to know M-Jack, I want to know your friends and what your life is like. I want the adventure your life provides. When I was growing up, everything was planned for me and I'm sorry that I tried to do that for you too… I should have always wanted you to be happy and I should have always told you that you were loved. It's just when I see you, I see the woman I want to be, who I should have been, but it's too late for me. I'm an old aging woman with little left. I am certainly of no use being a grandmother to your child, but…"

Rose is now crying too. Tears of joy mostly, but also tears of understanding. She has finally seen the interior of her mother, the vulnerable human being under that hard shell. The woman who wanted what Rose had and who only wanted to be loved by her daughter.

"I want you to feel something," Rose interrupts. She takes her mother's hand and places it on her stomach. The baby kicks against her belly.

Ruth gasps in surprise and smiles. She even starts laughing in joy, something Rose never saw her mother do before.

"Oh, Rose…" Ruth says. "It's so beautiful."

Rose smiles. "You are of some use, Mother. You may not have done well with me, but you can start a new…with this new beginning, this new life." Rose looks into her mother's frail eyes. "Do you really mean what you said?"

"Every word," Ruth says.

"I…I'm beginning tp forgive you, Mother," Rose says, a lump in her throat. "I want you to have a happy life too. I want you to be apart of this too. It just took me a little longer to realize it. Can you forgive me for running away?"

"Of course," Ruth says, smiling again, the widest she'd ever smiled in her life. She reaches over and hugs her daughter. Rose is a little uncomfortable at first, but then she squeezes her mother tightly.

There's a knock at the door.

Jack pokes his head in.

"I'm just relaying a message that Emma has made dinner. Would you like some Mrs. DeWitt Bukater?"

"Please Jack, call me Ruth."


	62. Chapter 61: Second Chances

Chapter 61: Second Chances

"Now Rose I think this dress would look just lovely on you,"

Rose rolls her eyes. Her mother had found the bridal magazines that both she and Emma had been looking through and insisted they sit down to look at them. Rose practically bit through her tongue knowing this was one of the reasons she ran away in the first place, to avoid the heinous wedding planning and her mother's opinion. Emma was also not very thrilled with this extra wedding planner; Ruth was insisting on the fanciest dresses and the most expensive…well, anything. Rose's mother was even trying to force her to buy a dress even though Emma was insisting on wearing her mother's dress.

"Mother it's much too small," Rose insists, showing off her growing bump. "And much too expensive."

"Rose this is your wedding day, you should beautiful."

"She will look beautiful, Mrs. DeWitt," Emma insists. "In something that **_she_** picks."

"I'm just saying a wedding is the most important day of a woman's life and she should look her very best."

"Mother there's more to life than just a wedding," Rose says. She puts a hand on her stomach. "Besides, I think the birth of a child is much more important than just a fancy party with cake."

"My father used to joke about that weddings were just funerals with cake," Emma smirks.

Rose giggles slightly. Ruth ignores the comment and flips through another magazine.

There's suddenly a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Rose says, wanting to get some space from her mother.

She opens the front door to see a tall man, with stubble around his very square jaw. He had bags under his soft blue eyes that had seen many sad things in his life and wrinkles indicating his aging face. His brow crinkles in the moment of stillness and his white blonde hair leans in with his expression. His entire face moves into a rather bright smile when he sees the glowing young woman.

"We meet at last," the man says.

Rose looks rather stunned. "May I help you?"

"I'm Mr. Calvert, the private investigator."

"Oh," Rose's eyes go wide for a few moments and she needs to take a step back. This was not the man she had expected Cal to have hired to track her down. He was quite a nice-looking man, perhaps in his fifties and had gentle blue eyes, much like Jack's. He wore a light brown suit with a matching tie and wore a hat that cast a shadow on his face in the afternoon sun. He also carried a brown leather briefcase in one of his hands. "How... How may we help you?"

"I have a few things to finish up with your mother, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater."

"How did you know she was here?" Rose says suspiciously.

"I was your middle man," Henry answers. "I passed the letters between you and your mother."

"Oh…" Rose says. "Right."

"I'm sorry, but I may have ended up examining a few of them to make sure there wasn't any poison or something like that in them." The man appears turns red in embarrassment. "Might I come in for a few moments?"

Rose hesitates.

"Who is it, Rose?" Emma asks and she too does a double take at the man standing at the door. "May I help you?"

"I'm terribly sorry Ms. Carson. I'm Henry Calvert…the private investigator who I promised to that you would never see again. I'm sorry I've had to break that promise, but I have a few things to discuss with Mrs. DeWitt Bukater."

Emma's eyes blink a few times in recognition, seeing the man's face for the first time instead of behind a thick cloud of cigarette smoke, which was something she preferred as she hated smoking. She always insisted that Jack smokes outside or quits altogether.

"Of course," Emma says. "Please come in, I'll go get Ruth."

Henry steps into the room and removes his hat. He waits on the doormat and takes in Rose's looks.

"I can see why Mr. Hockley wanted you back so badly," Henry says.

"Excuse me?" Rose says in disbelief.

"What I mean is, you are in fact a very beautiful woman and I've only ever seen a picture of you from my investigation. It clearly does not do any justice. It was a very sad picture I might add, from your engagement with Mr. Hockley, but it was very clear to me early on that you deserved a lot more than Mr. Hockley. I pity if a woman ever falls in love with him."

"Hopefully no one will," Rose mutters under her breath.

Mr. Calvert leans in "And between you and me, I knew very early on that you had run off to escape that horrible man, I just couldn't say it to your grieving mother."

"Well she's grieving no longer," Rose says with a slight moan.

"Mr. Calvert is that you?" Ruth asks, her eyes lighting up slightly in the recognition.

"Why yes ma' me and might I say that you are looking especially beautiful today."

Ruth instantly blushes and laughs rather haughtily as she approaches the man.

Rose's face contorts in confusion by this comment and backs away as Ruth goes forward to shake Mr. Calvert's hand, in which he kisses for added effect. Emma raises and eyebrow but then goes off when her sister starts crying for attention.

"I'm sorry to bother you both on this beautiful day, but I have a few things to cover with you Mrs. Bukater for us to officially close the search for your 'lost' daughter."

"Certainly," Ruth says, but then her face goes white a bit. "If this is about money I…"

"It's not about money Mrs. Bukater I can assure you, that is something I will discuss with Mr. Hockley, but some of these things would be preferred to be talked about in private…"

"Shall we go onto the front porch?" Ruth suggests quickly. "It's nice and shady and very quiet right now."

"That would be great," Mr. Calvert smiles. Ruth also smiles and blushes again. Rose's stomach turns, but that could just be the baby and she swallows a lump in her throat.

"Please excuse us, Rose," Ruth says and both walk outside, shutting the front door behind them.

Rose's head is spinning in confusion and she walks back to the kitchen table in a trance like state. Emma is cleaning up the bridal magazines and is making a list of things to buy from the market. Sybil sits in her high chair, eating some cut up banana and berries. She notices Rose's sudden change.

"Is everything okay Rose?" Emma asks. "Rose?"

"Sorry, what?" Rose asks in shock.

"Are you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"It's nothing," Rose says. _At least I hope it's nothing._

"Well, would you mind bringing some iced tea out to the two of them? It is really hot out."

"Sure," Rose says. She picks up the two ice cold glasses and heads to the front door. Her heart is pounding in her chest and her head is spinning.

"-Mrs. Bukater, if you don't mind me saying, you must have been a teenager when you had your daughter, you look so young."

"Please don't flatter me, Mr. Calvert," Ruth says with a giggle, an actual giggle. "I was only twenty when I had her."

"Please call me Henry, Mrs. Bukater. Well, it certainly does not show, oh hello…" Mr. Calvert says noticing Rose.

Rose struggles to find her words as she stands there with the two glasses. "Uh, Emma made some ice tea and thought that you might like some because it's so hot."

"That's very thoughtful of her," Mr. Calvert says, taking the glasses from Rose. The girl feels like she's shaking as she eyes her mother. "I always have enjoyed an ice-cold glass of anything on a hot day, though usually, I prefer whiskey."

"Oh my late husband used to love whiskey too, he could knock back three glasses in one sitting easily, couldn't he Rose?"

"Uh yes…" Rose says, still very stunned by this conversation. Why did her mother mention that her father was dead? Why was she giggling like a school girl suddenly? Rose was afraid what this might imply. She hastily heads back inside without another word. Once she shuts the door, she can hear the two laughing.

…

The sun is setting in the kitchen window as Emma and Rose prepare dinner. The sounds of Ruth and Henry can still be heard on the front porch.

"How long could it take to settle a private investigation case?" Rose mutters as she peels carrots.

Emma giggles while stirring a pot of soup.

"What?" Rose asks.

"Seriously? You don't see what's happening here?"

Rose swallows. "I think I might, but I really don't want to think about it."

"Hello we're home!" a familiar voice calls into the house. Both men come in and kiss their perspective partners. '

"Who's the man out on the porch with your mother?" Jack asks, putting his arm around Rose's waist.

"He was the private investigator that Cal hired to find me," Rose answers, continuing to peel.

"What's he doing here?"

"Flirting with Rose's mother," Emma giggles.

"What really?" Peter gasps.

"No, he's not," Rose practically snaps. "He had a few things to talk to her about to close the case about me."

"Which is taking much longer than expected," Emma says. "He's been here all afternoon."

"Really?" Jack says in shock. He never thought that a man would stay so long to talk to Ruth. The four of them had a hard time keeping a conversation with the woman. Could he really be flirting with her?

"Did you hear anything?" Rose asks.

"Nothing really, just talking about Philadelphia life mostly," Peter answers. "Why?"

"No reason… Damn!" Rose accidentally cuts her finger. She puts the peeler down and runs her hand under cold water.

"Should we invite him to stay for dinner?" Emma asks. "It is getting late and there is plenty of soup."

Rose swallows hard and she feels tears come to her eyes. She finishes cleaning her cut and then finds a towel.

"It wouldn't hurt, but it is a little weird that we're inviting the man who was trying to find Rose for so long and probably knows a lot about our lives," Jack says. Rose sighs in her head, thankful that Jack was mostly on her side about how uncomfortable this made her.

"It won't be for a long meal," Emma reassures him. "Besides, he seems like a very polite gentleman."

Rose again holds her tongue, not wanting to let anyone know how hard this was for her.

"I'll go ask them," Peter says.

"Rose, can you help me serve the soup?" Emma asks.

Rose simply nods and Jack helps set the table.

Dinner is a long affair, much longer than Rose had anticipated. Mr. Calvert is a very pleasant company, but that is not what bothered Rose. It wasn't the jokes he told or the cases he discussed with Jack or talked about stocks with Peter; it was the way he is attempting to hold her mother's hand. The entire meal, Rose couldn't help but glance over as Mr. Calvert sat next to her mother, poured her more iced tea whenever she needed it and occasionally putting his hand over hers.

Why was this bothering her so very much? Was there something between Mr. Calvert and her mother? She could assume there was and she'd think that she should be happy for her mother, finding someone that kept her attention and actually made her laugh and yet there was a strong sense of dread in her stomach. It was clear that Mr. Calvert was not in the same class as her mother was and considering all the fuss Ruth made about Rose falling in love with Jack, it made her mad that her mother was so accepting of this lower-class man in her life. Rose ate slowly and didn't say much through the entire meal.

After dinner, Henry thanks the family for having him for dinner and assures them that they would not hear from him again, at least about work. Ruth follows Henry to the front porch in which he kisses her hand and bids them all a good night before flagging down a taxi. Rose stands in the hallway, watching as her mother wave to Mr. Calvert before coming inside. She is beaming from ear to ear and even humming a soft tune to herself. She offers to help Emma with the dishes and then kisses her daughter good night before heading upstairs.

Rose bites her lip so hard that it almost bleeds. She tries to read a book, but can't and soon heads up to bed herself. As she passes her mother's room, she can hear her mother singing to herself.

" _Oh, what a lovely man is he…_

 _Luck has shined on me…"_

Rose's stomach turns once more before she changes for bed and lays down. She curls up under Jack's arm and closes her eyes, trying to calm herself down.

She had given her mother a second chance, now fate apparently was doing the same thing.


	63. Chapter 62: Her Father's Legacy

Chapter 62: Her Father's Legacy

Ruth DeWitt Bukater's stay at the Carson/Whitman/Dawson home lasted much longer than any of them had anticipated; which was fine to a point as Mr. Calvert came looking for her the following days. He brought her flowers one time and offered to show her around Central Park as well as other areas of the city that she had never been to before. It gave the rest of them some space and every evening, Ruth came home with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

Rose watches from a distance, an uncomfortable distance. Seeing her mother so happy and almost carefree was a bit alien to her and the fact that a man was willing to court her also surprised her. But no matter how happy her mother seemed, Rose still couldn't get rid of this awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. She thought it could be mistrust or hatred, even jealousy, but none of them seemed likely. She could only determine that the feeling was betrayal on the part of her mother.

Rose's father had been a wonderful man. So, loving and full of life, much like Rose herself and he was a caring person. He always had time for his daughter when her mother didn't. He had always encouraged Rose to follow her passions and her own path, being more concerned about her life than his own. When he had the financial problems, he hid it well from his family, keeping it a secret until after his death. Why he kept it a secret was beyond Rose, maybe he was doing it to please her mother as he knew status and position were always very important to her. Perhaps even more than her own family. This added to the stress of secret keeping may have been what ultimately led to his death from heart failure. Rose had spent more time now thinking about those last few months of her father's life.

She had only been about eleven or twelve years old, enrolled in boarding school and private etiquette sessions, which were what Rose now called, a waste of time. On nights that she was home, she can remember trying to find her father to play games with her or read to her like they always did, but often she found his office door locked. This was very unusual as Rose always remembered that her father would let her in to explore or just keep him company. She'd knock often asking if he could play with her. Sometimes she would get a response like "later my child," or "not right now," but more often she only got silence. Rose remembers sitting outside his office door for hours on end, waiting and wondering when her father would come and play with her. She'd wait until her nanny came to get her ready for bed, leaving her bitterly disappointed and sometimes angry.

Being only eleven or twelve, Rose couldn't comprehend what was really going on behind the closed door, but now she wished she could have then. She could have insisted that her father takes breaks and rest, put those worries aside for a little while. Something ultimately became part of his downfall. The doctor told her mother that it had been heart failure from pure exhaustion as well as excessive amounts of alcohol which had destroyed his liver. Rose had always remembered that her father usually was a moderate drinker, whiskey or a glass of wine, but it was only clear to Rose now that the reason her father locked the door was to prevent his wife and child from seeing him coming apart and drinking himself to death.

Rose could remember the day her father died like it was yesterday. It was a bright and sunny day and she had spent most of it with her nanny out in the garden as well as in the family library with her etiquette tutor. It was almost tea time when Rose heard frantic footsteps and shouting coming from down the hall. Rose, of course, wanted to investigate, but her nanny kept Rose in her room, with the woman guarding the door. It was a long time before Rose grew tired of waiting. She tried to throw a fit, something she regretted deeply now, acting alike a spoiled brat while her father lay dying in his room. She wanted more than anything to know what happened and why everyone was so stern and quiet. Eventually, her nanny forced Rose to go to bed, leaving the child upset and confused. Rose remembers sneaking out of her room and down the hall as the nanny had been distracted at the time. She stopped when she heard the doctor telling her mother that her beloved father wouldn't make it to morning. The heart attack had been detrimental to his body and there was no way he could recover.

Rose remembers trying to go inside and hold her beloved "daddy" one last time, but Ruth pulled her away, trying to protect her daughter from the harsh reality of death. This was the beginning of Rose's hatred for her mother. Keeping her from her father, unable to say goodbye. Ruth forced Rose back into her room and she was kept there, sobbing and begging to see her father one last time.

The next thing she could remember was standing by her mother, dressed in black, with veils covering both their faces, crying as the undertakers took her father's coffin to the cemetery. Rose had placed flowers on her father's grave and remembers her mother's face very distinctly. This was when Ruth became a hardened woman because almost immediately she forced Rose into schools and more etiquette training, parties and charities to show her daughter off to an eligible suitor. It was the beginning of Rose's hatred for the world she lived in and her mother in general.

That had softened in the past few weeks with Ruth now being poor and position was the last thing on her mind, but Rose felt the way her mother was acting with Mr. Calvert was a huge betrayal to her father and herself.

Rose sits outside in the afternoon sun, trying to knit a pair of little booties for their baby, something that Emma had taught her, but she kept getting distracted, thinking about her mother and Mr. Calvert.

"Are you alright Rose Petal?" Jack asks, coming out onto the porch. "You've been awfully quiet recently."

"It's nothing," Rose says, trying to finish a stitch.

"Rose, I know you better than that, please don't lie to me, what's wrong?"

Rose sighs. "It's such a silly thing!"

"Is it about your mother and Mr. Calvert?"

Rose fights back tears and nods. "I-I know I should be happy that my mother has found someone that likes and respects her. Someone who makes her happy, but I can't help feel betrayed."

"Because of your father?" Jack asks.

"Yes, it just feels like she's betraying him and of how accepting she is of Mr. Calvert, who is a lower-class man, and meanwhile she gave me shit for falling in love with you!" she screams in frustration. She pretends to go back to knitting but becomes so frustrated that she throws it to the ground and puts her face in her hands. She then begins crying. Jack immediately pulls his pregnant fiancée into his lap and cradles her. He lets her cry as much as she needs and simply stays quiet, letting her emotions go. He rocks with her back and forth, watching as the sun begins to set behind the horizon.

"I-I'm sorry Jack," Rose says finally. "I just couldn't keep it in any longer."

"It's fine," Jack says, rubbing her back. "I can understand why this would be hard for you. You loved your father and it's hard to see your mother move on."

"Like it would've been if you hadn't survived," Rose whispers. Jack pulls her even tighter after she says that.

"But I'm sure if you just talk with your mother about how you feel, she'll understand."

"I…I don't know if I can," Rose says. "I don't want for her to think that I'm trying to ruin her chance at happiness again. Since we're just starting to tolerate each other again, I'm really afraid this might set her off and ruin the progress."

"Just tell her that you want her to be happy but at the same time, you still feel guilty. I'm sure she has mixed feelings about being with Mr. Calvert too. It's better to say something now rather than when she's walking down the aisle."

Rose swallows. "Don't joke about that!" she says. "They hardly know each other."

"We hardly knew each other when we were together," Jack says.

"But that's changed and it took some time to learn more about each other."

"And maybe time is what you need to get used to the idea of your mother and Mr. Calvert," Jack says gently.

Rose sighs and leans up to kiss Jack. "What would I ever do without you?" she asks.

"You'd be engaged to a bastard," Jack says and he kisses her cheek.

…

Ruth comes home just after the others have finished dinner and tells them all about her day with Mr. Calvert over a cup of coffee.

"He is such a wonderful man," Ruth sighs. She has a very starry look in her eyes. "I feel like a young woman again."

Jack looks over at Rose and nods. He signals for Emma and Peter to come inside, leaving Rose with her mother. Ruth continues chatting away.

"Oh and he says I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever met. He's such a gentleman. I never thought coming to New York would be so rewarding. You know he has a nice little apartment in Downtown, he's even offered to allow me to stay there when I come back to New York. I know how improper that sounds, but it's all so exciting."

"That's wonderful mother," Rose says with a forced smile.

The two sit in silence for a little while as the evening sounds of crickets and the wind rustling the trees and bushes. Rose looks at her mother and sees genuine happiness, it still makes her feel uneasy.

"Mother…" Rose says after a long pause.

"Yes, dear?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm just…" Rose stammers. She swallows, trying to hide any tears.

"What is it, Rose?"

"About Mr. Calvert…"

"Are you uncomfortable with this Rose?" Ruth asks.

Rose doesn't say anything, just nods and begins to cry.

"Oh my child," Ruth says, she reaches over to grab her daughter's hand. "I thought this might be hard for you… after your father and my insistence on you marrying someone. This is probably the last thing you wanted right now."

Rose just continues to sob. "I'm so sorry mother, I really am. I want you to be happy like I am…it's just happening really quickly and with so much else going on…"

Ruth reaches over and hugs her daughter. A sign of affection that was the rarest of occasions. The hug was a little uncomfortable as Ruth was not used to showing warmth and regard to her daughter, but she did her best. She shushes Rose and squeezes her tightly.

"I miss him too," Ruth whispers. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about him. I know you never saw me show my grief, I never liked to talk about him much and all I seemed to care about were the debts, but I miss him. Even when I'm with Mr. Calvert, I still see your father in his warm smile and it's like we are young again, when he courted me. I've come to realize these past few months on what is really important. When I thought, I had lost you on the _Titanic,_ I blamed myself for everything. I begged God to keep you safe and promised I would change if I got to see you again. I knew it was my behavior that chased you away from safety… I know now that it was love that made you go back for Mr. Dawson, but also the way I had treated you… and when you were brought on board again, I thought that everything would go back to the way things were and forgot my promise. I suppose God made me remember that promise when you disappeared again and I thought I had lost you for good. The same thing happened when I was forced to sell our mansion and possessions, but all this hardship made me realize that you are what is valuable to me. You and your father… Money should never be more important than your family and I now know that you understood this long before me and I'm thankful you are allowing me to catch up…"

Ruth puts her hand gently on her daughter's swollen belly. "I now understand what is important and that's you and your family."

Rose gives a small smile and hugs her mother again.

"How about I talk to Mr. Calvert about taking this courtship slow?" Ruth suggests. "I'll allow my daughter to be married first before I even consider the notion."

Rose's smile becomes bigger. "I'd like that. I just need some time to get used to it."

"Please understand Rose, I love your father and I always will. I never thought I would find anyone again, but now that Mr. Calvert is here, it's made me realize how precious life is and you should spend it with those you love."

Rose smiles. "That's Jack's philosophy,"

Ruth smiles as well. "Maybe Mr. Dawson is rubbing off on me,"

Rose laughs and wipes the last of her tears. "I love you mother and thank you,"

"I love you too Rose, just keep in mind, I will always love your father. I am no longer looking for money and I'm sorry I gave you and Mr. Dawson such a hard time. I now know what it's like to fall in love again and that nothing else matters except for those closest to you. I'm simply looking for a companion and a respectable man, someone who can treat me like your father did and more."

"It's all you ever really need," Rose says. "All you need is love,"

"Indeed," Ruth smiles. "That and a man to tell you that you are beautiful."

The two DeWitt Bukater women laugh before heading inside.

Unbeknownst to them, a man is watching them from across the street, taking notes before climbing back into his master's car and driving away.


	64. Chapter 63: Under Watch

Chapter 63: Under Watch

The next few weeks to follow are relatively uneventful except for the changes as the winds of summer gave way to early autumn breezes. Ruth leaves after re-building some of her relationship with Rose and promises to visit when she can. She also gives her communication information to Mr. Calvert so they can keep in touch. Emma prepares for her results of her classes and is still working on the wedding plans. Jack, Peter and Emma work hard at their jobs and at home as Rose is less and less able to be on her feet for long periods of time. Her recent doctor visit says that everything is healthy and the baby is responding properly, much to the couple's delight. Dress shopping, however, has become a bit of a challenge.

"Come on Rose it can't be that bad," Emma calls from the front. She, Rose, Holly, and Sybil have gone out to look for dresses for the wedding. This errand, however, has raised several problems, one of them being that many dress shops are turning away Rose due to her condition of conceiving out of wedlock. The owners are also not approving of Emma and Holly's status as "working class" women and the prices of the dresses in general. They had walked all over Sacks Fifth Avenue and most of downtown Manhattan looking for a place that did not put emphasis on these problems.

This was the tenth shop they'd tried and everyone was becoming tired, especially the pregnant bride and the infant of the group. Emma was searching for new materials to repair her mother's old dress, finding something for Holly to wear as a bride's maid and for Sybil. Rose was looking for a dress that fit and wasn't crazy expensive.

The most recent dress was meant for women of a large body size and made her look like a pumpkin from all sides. The sleeves made it look like Rose had wings and could take off like a great white bird and the veil was so thick, Rose could not see where she was going.

She stumbles out in front of the others and both Emma and Holly do their best not to laugh. Rose looks at herself in the three mirrors of the boutique and can't believe the giant white monster staring back at her. She herself begins to laugh and soon all three are laughing very hard at this atrocious dress.

"It seems so fruitless," Rose sighs heavily, doing her best to keep the thick veil out of her face as she sits on the platform erected to allow the brides to feel as if they were the star of the show to rest her feet. "No one wants a bride of a shotgun wedding and they only have very high prices for custom made dresses. I may as well get married in the lavender dress I wore on _Titanic_."

"No Rose, you saw what salt water did to my dress, can you imagine what yours must be like," Emma says, not ready to give up hope. "Besides, I can't believe I sound like your mother, but it's your wedding day and you deserve to look beautiful."

"If everything wasn't so expensive," Rose mutters.

"Come on, there has to be something here you like," Emma says. "I can make the alterations of the dress myself and for no extra cost."

Just then Sybil begins to cry and Emma goes to tend to her sister. Rose sighs and goes to change out of it. On her way, she notices one of the boutique ladies carrying something very shiny and elegant through the back.

"What's that?!" Rose calls out suddenly.

The woman stops and turns around. "Oh, this Miss?"

"Yes," Rose stumbles along in the massive dress she's wearing to get a closer look.

"It's a 1912 dress Miss, it's a bit old, some of the diamonds are coming off and there are a few stains in places, there are holes in places, it's also going out of style and…"

"Beautiful," Rose says.

The dress is basically a work of art. The entire thing is made of silk with a fairly short solid silk train. There is lace over the shoulders, formed in such a way that it looks like she's wearing a cardigan. There are nicely formed ruffles that hang over the entire skirt of the dress and light fabric make up the sleeves. But the crown jewels of this garment are the lovely arranged flower of silk in the center of the dress, studded with diamonds and the embroidered flowers along the sides of the dress and the train.

"May I try it on?" Rose asks.

"A-Are you quite sure Miss?" the clerk asks.

"Yes," Rose says, she can barely take her eyes of the piece.

The woman follows her into the dressing room, helps the pregnant woman remove the monstrosity she's wearing and slip into the new one.

"The zipper will not go all the way up to the topMiss, due to your um… condition"

"That's alright," Rose says. "My friend can make the adjustments accordingly."

"Well, despite the wear and tear of it, you do look beautiful Miss."

"Thank you," Rose says. "I'm going to go show my friends."

"Might I recommend a veil Miss?" the clerk suggests.

"Something simple please," Rose requests.

The clerk goes out and comes back with a nice thin veil with a small crown of flowers formed into a circle. The woman helps put the veil in Rose's curly red hair.

Rose then goes out in front of the others.

It feels as if the entire world goes quiet. Emma and Holly's eyes go wide in amazement as Rose steps onto the platform and examine herself in the mirror.

She absolutely loves what she sees. Rose DeWitt Bukater is no more, instead, the soon to be Rose Dawson stands in a very elegant and beautiful gown, the dress hugging the life inside her, setting off her green eyes and making her lovely ringlets stand out. She seems to be glowing radiantly in the light of the shop and the train trails her at the perfect length. The veil only enhances the look, framing the demure seventeen-year old's face and accenting the lovely curves of her face. The diamonds glitter proudly and the skirt swishes as the young bride turns to examine it from all sides.

"Oh Rose," Emma says, so taken by the beauty of her friend, she can't find the right words. "You look like an angel."

"Sent directly from Heaven," Holly adds, her eyes taking in the magnificent sight. Even Sybil is entranced by the beauty of the gown, but that is most likely due to the colour.

Rose blushes and the red is emphasized even more by the white/cream colour of the dress. Rose knows instantly that this is the dress she is destined to marry Jack Dawson in. It is a truly unique piece, just like the two of them. This is the dress she wanted, nothing else.

"It does need to be cleaned up a little," the woman who helped Rose into the dress states.

"That will be very easy for me," Emma says, examining the dress, making mental notes of what needed to be repaired.

"I can make a list of the flaws," the woman offers.

"That would be most helpful," Emma says.

"How much is it?" Rose asks.

"Approximately 250 dollars, the price has been lowered since it's not in season anymore and some of the flaw defects. The last woman who tried it on did not take good care of it, it didn't fit her properly and she insisted on drinking whiskey while wearing it."

"It seems like a fair price," Holly says.

"It's up to you Rose," Emma says. "You do have the money from that auction."

Rose takes a few moments and gives another long look in the mirrors. This is the dress she wanted and she found it, not her mother, not some random designer, her. Sure, it has its flaws, but it was perfect for her. Her eyes fill with tears of joy.

"I'll take it. I say yes to this dress."

There is cheering amongst her companions and Rose beams, taking a bow in her dress. The happiness and relief felt by everyone were lost on a distant figure, watching from afar. He stood on a street corner, face concealed by a newspaper, as the women and child left the boutique, bags in hand towards their homes. The man, in his uniform, writes down a few things on a pad of paper and then goes off in the opposite direction, towards his master's car.

…

Later in the evening, the man returns to the apartment of his master, climbing up the steps, his hat in his hand. He knocks on a heavy oak door leading to the man's office.

"Come in and shut the door," a voice calls out.

The man obeys without a second thought, shutting the door, even thought they were the only ones in the apartment. The man servant stands across from a leather, rotating chair, in which sits his master, drinking his evening brandy and writing a few things out on a sheet of paper.

"What do you have for me Riptide?" Caledon asks.

"A wedding is imminent Sir," the manservant says. "I followed the women to a dress shop today. Your ex-fiancée has selected her gown for the event. She could not be more ecstatic."

"Anything else?"

"The Dawson boy works at the police station and they are planning to send out invitations soon. I believe the wedding will perhaps take place in late October or early November at my estimate."

"Interesting," Cal says, taking a sip of his brandy.

"Sir?" Riptide asks.

"Yes?"

"Forgive me for being rather straightforward but what do you plan to achieve by having me follow these people around?"

"Surveillance my dear Riptide. Since I am forbidden by law to be within 500 feet of any of them, I need someone like yourself, so inconspicuous and unassuming to learn their patterns and their plans."

"But what is **your** plan, Sir?" Riptide asks.

"All in good time Riptide, all you need to know is that you need to keep and eye on them for the time being. Unfortunately, my father has summoned me to Philadelphia next week, something I cannot get out of, but I need you to remain here and keep up your watch."

"B-But sir, will you manage?"

"My father has a butler who can assist me, but I will be in touch with you every evening to see what you have learned."

"Forgive me Sir, but where is all this leading us?"

"Me to know and you to find out. I assure you, both you and I will have clean hands by the end. Thank you, Riptide. I will ring for you when I am ready to retire."

"Very good Sir, I will see you then." The manservant bows before exiting the room.

Once alone, Cal finishes his brandy and then picks up the telephone and dials a certain number.

"What is it you need?" a gruff voice on the other end of the line asks.

"I need your services…"

 _Happy Holidays to all my readers. I provided a link to get a picture of Rose's dress. I described a genuine 1912 dress that I thought would be perfect for Rose._

 _albums/g57/minathegoth/2%20antique%_


	65. Chapter 64: Guess Who's Coming?

Chapter 64: Guess Who's Coming to the Wedding?

"No Sybil!" Emma says, taking back one of the envelopes her little sister had grabbed and trying to put into her mouth.

The two couples who would be the stars of the upcoming wedding are sitting at the kitchen table preparing wedding invitations. Sybil sits with them, but is becoming antsy and grabbing anything within her reach. Jack is checking off the guest list, Rose is handwriting them since she had the best penmanship, Emma is addressing them and Peter is posting the stamps.

"So your mom is definitely coming?" Jack asks.

"She always told me she would never miss my wedding ever, even though now I'm not marrying the man she wanted me to," Rose says

Jack leans over and kisses Rose's cheek. She turns to meet his lips.

"Save it for the wedding you two," Emma jokes.

"We can't exactly help it," Jack smirks.

"Let's try to keep the illusion that you haven't had your wedding night yet," Emma says.

All of them burst out laughing since Rose was almost six months pregnant and was definitely showing a baby bump.

"Maybe this time you won't have to do it in the cargo hold of the _Titanic_ and in the back of Renault," Peter adds.

Both Jack and Rose turn red.

"I thought Peter and I were supposed to have a wedding night," Emma says.

"So who else do we have?" Rose asks, trying to keep everyone focused on the task.

"My parents," Peter says. "They will definitely be coming down from West Virginia. They wouldn't miss this for the world."

There's a slight air of sadness at the mention of parents since Emma's and Jack's had both passed away tragically. Neither would watch their beloved children get married or in Emma's case, give her away to Peter. Additionally, Rose's father would not be there to give her away either. It would be slightly upsetting, but Emma believed that all those who had passed on would be watching from above and would give each of them their blessing.

It was not a total loss as Peter's father agreed to give Emma away and Carl even offered to give Rose away. Rose was on the fence about it, but her mother had also suggested that Mr. Calvert give her away, but no one thought this was a good idea since this was the man who had been tasked to find Rose for Cal and had to do a lot of research about their lives. Rose was okay with Mr. Calvert being at the wedding with her mother, but to walk her down the aisle, it would be like admitting that he was going to be her father. She wasn't ready for that just yet.

"Obviously, Holly, Carl, and Thomas will be there," Emma says confidently. All three of Peter's relatives were technically in the wedding party and were already involved in the wedding planning. Carl might be giving Rose away, if she wanted, Holly as a bridesmaid and Thomas would carry the rings for both couples. Emma's face lit up very happily at the thought of her soon to be nephew coming down the aisle in a little suit, rings on the pillow.

"Then my brother, Jake and his wife, Melanie from Boston and then Holly's twin sister, Halley and her fiancé."

Rose's eyes go wide and she nearly drops ink on the invitation she's writing. "I didn't know Holly had a twin?!"

"Yeah it's the family's best-kept secret," Peter says. "They sure don't act like them that's for sure, but technically the two are a year apart."

"How does that make them twins if they're a year apart?" Jack asks, raising his eyebrow.

"Holly and Halley were born on New Year's Eve," Peter explains. "Holly came at two minutes to midnight and Halley came three minutes after the New Year. They do look alike, but if you want to get official, Holly is older by a year."

"That's so strange," Rose says. "But very interesting, I've never met twins before."

"Not even in high society?" Emma asks curiously.

"Not even then. It's considered a rare occurrence and almost alien. Most people would children one at a time in order to determine who the heir will be, with twins it would be much more complicated."

"Holly and Halley were just lucky in general, multiple births are hard to deliver without losing one of them," Emma adds.

"So where does Halley live?" Jack asks.

"She lives down in Texas, she's marrying the heir of a wealthy oil tycoon," Peter says.

"Sounds like the kind of person my mother would approve of," Rose mutters.

"Who else?" Emma says, looking at some of the envelopes.

"A few people from work, including your secretary, Felicity," Peter says. "Mr. Jamieson and his family of course."

"My cousins from up north," Emma adds.

"How far up North are we talking?" Jack asks.

"Ontario Canada," Emma says happily, proud of her British/Canadian background. "They have a summer home by Hudson's Bay, hopefully, you can visit it someday, it's very beautiful."

"What about you Rose, any distant family members you want to invite?"

"I don't exactly like any of my cousins. My father only had one brother and he lives in India with his wife, while my mother also had a brother, but he and his wife are now deceased. My cousins are as stuck up as my mother usually is and I'd rather not see their disapproving faces as I walk down the aisle."

"Well, is there anyone else, friends from school?"

"I never liked them much either," Rose sighs. She wishes that Trudy was still around because technically Trudy was her one true friend. "Wait! Wendy!"

"Your maid?" Emma asks.

"Yes, she and I became good friends after the disaster. She's the one person who could make me smile in that month before I found Jack again."

"Do you know where she lives?"

Rose's face falls in disappointment. "I don't. She and I parted the day after we were all reunited. I let her go with a man she'd met and let her chase her dreams of becoming a writer. We haven't been in touch since." Rose begins to fight back tears. Wendy was another true friend that she was so happy to have. She was glad that she had taught the maid to read and write so that she could chase her dreams of being a famous writer. Wendy had been reluctant to take a risk and leave service completely when Rose showed up with Jack. Rose had encouraged Wendy to go off with the nice man who had saved her from Cal's attack on her and pursue what she wanted. It was the same kind of speech that jack had given her on Titanic and Rose was so happy to see her friend goo off into the world and see where the wind took her.

"I don't know where to look for her," Rose sighs heavily.

Jack puts his arm around her and squeezes her gently. He suddenly looks at Mr. Calvert's name and gets an idea.

"Wait," he says. "Do think Mr. Calvert might be able to track her down?"

All three look at Jack like he might've lost his mind.

"Here me out, this guy is great at finding people, he found us in less than a few weeks, maybe he could find Wendy?"

Rose bites her lip as she thinks it over. "It might work," Rose says thoughtfully. "I really do want Wendy to be at this wedding."

"I still have his business card," Emma adds. "Or Jack can go and talk to him on Monday."

"Are you sure you want to find her Rose petal?" Jack asks, wanting to make sure he got his fiancée's full approval before going to a private investigator.

"Yes," Rose says. "It would mean a lot if she was there."

"She could also bring that man she met too," Peter adds.

"Okay, so Wendy should come. What about you Jack? Anybody, you want to invite?"

Jack swallows hard. Tommy and Fabrizio were his first choice, Fabri as his best man and Tommy as a groomsman. Both would have loved to see their best friend get married and drink as much free alcohol afterward, but tragically they were gone. Cora and her family would be nice too, but yet again, the _Titanic_ had claimed them. He wanted desperately for his friends and parents to be alive for his wedding, but unfortunately, fate had intervened and left him with very few friends or family. He did have Rose and their child, Peter, Emma, and Sybil, but Jack had not found anyone at work or beyond that he liked or would consider a friend. He felt a little uneasy about this, but he felt that it was a consequence of being a drifter for so long, as well as an only child, he didn't have a chance to establish roots and lasting relationships, except with his parents and Tommy and Fabrizio.

There was Father Bill, Jack still had his contact information, but he was going to officiate the ceremony, so he was technically already invited. He, Rose, Emma and Peter had all gone to see him a few days back. Jack felt so happy to see the priest again. A man who had mentored him and taken him in when he was desperate. None of them had to ask the man twice before he eagerly agreed to marry all four of them. He didn't seem to judge that Rose had a baby bump. He was willing to do whatever he could to help Jack and his friends have that happily ever after.

Jack looks down at the list and no names come to mind.

"What about Molly?" Rose suggests, coming to Jack's rescue.

"Molly Brown? As in **_the_** Molly Brown?!" Emma asks, very excited.

A smile forms on Jack's face. Molly was a good choice to invite, she was the one who had found Jack again and had thrown the party that reunited him and Rose. Molly had also helped Jack on the _Titanic_ with the dinner party and had always approved of Jack and Rose's relationship. She would never object to being invited to Rose's wedding, she wouldn't be snobby about being with second-class people and surely she would be the life of the party afterward. Molly had touched Jack and Rose's life in the best way possible, sometimes unknowingly.

"Yes that Molly Brown," Rose says with a smile. "What do you think Jack?"

Jack's smile becomes very wide. "Yes, I definitely think Molly should come."

"Do you know her address?" Emma asks.

The four of them continue with the invitations until the last one that remained was Wendy's.

"I'll take these down to the post office tomorrow," Rose says beaming. Despite the slight sadness that surrounded the friends in terms of the people who couldn't come to the wedding, this was going to a happy day and all four of them were excited toe share their special day with those that they loved.

At this point, Sybil begins to shriek in impatience. Emma scoops her sister up from her high chair.

"Who feels like going out for dinner?"

…

The following day, Rose carries the bundles of invitations down to the post office, with Sybil in her stroller. She can't stop smiling as the excitement of her special day with Jack approaches ever so quickly. She had the dress, they had the hall, the church, and priest, the flowers and cake. Obviously, there was much more to do, but Rose was excited about it all. This was her wedding and she was going to plan it the way she saw fit. She was also marrying the man of her dreams and she knew that this was going to be the best day of her life.

As she hands over the envelopes to the clerk at the desk, she doesn't notice a man lurking in the background. He pretends to be looking for newspaper and a few postcards, but he watches the redhead carefully as she hands over the money needed to pay for the invitations and leaves with the baby.

The man waits while the clerk goes to get a few more stamps and leaves the stack of invitations on the counter. The man grabs one of the envelopes, opens it carefully and copies down all the information he needs on a notepad, including the date, time and locations of the ceremony. Once he's accomplished this, he replaces the invitation back into the envelope and then goes to find the nearest phone.

"What is it?" a voice says on the other line.

"I've got what you need sir," Riptide says.

"Good, there will be a few uninvited guests to this wedding."


	66. Chapter 65: Duchess in the Bar

Chapter 65: Duchess in the Bar

"And what is her name again?" Mr. Calvert asks, taking notes on a pad of paper.

"Wendy, unfortunately, I don't know her last name," Rose says. She sits in the office of Mr. Calvert in the police station to explain what she wants him to do for her. She did get a glimpse of the board that he had used when he was tracking down her, which he intended to throw away. It made her slightly uncomfortable of all the detail that this private investigator had collected about her, Jack, Emma, Peter and even Sybil. "You might want to ask my mother about that."

"I will and don't worry, I'll have this woman found before your wedding."

"Thank you," Rose says with a small smile. She doesn't really want to look at Mr. Calvert that much, considering that he is courting her mother, but when she does, his gentle blue eyes look at her sympathetically. It's as if he knew she was uncomfortable because he asks…

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Rose says, not really looking up.

"You shouldn't have to lie to me, Rose… Is it about me courting your mother?"

Rose bites her lip and doesn't really respond, which sort of answers his question for him.

"I understand that you must feel very upset about this whole situation, but I assure you my intentions are completely honourable."

"I know that," Rose says. If they were still rich, she would be concerned that the man was a fortune hunter and after their wealth, but since neither of them lived in a fancy mansion anymore or had expensive things, she could relax.

"Is it because you think I might be replacing your father?"

Rose gazes into Mr. Calvert's eyes. This man was remarkable perceptive to basically put into words how she felt. Then again, that was his job to observe and note important things. The young woman simply nods as a response.

"Ah, I see. Well, I think the only thing I can do for you is not trying to act as your father and give you some time to get used to me. I never want to replace Mr. DeWitt Bukater. He was a fine man from what your mother has told me about him and it is clear that you loved him very much."

"I did," Rose says, trying to fight tears.

"Change and adjustment is very hard my dear, I can understand that completely. I recently lost my father as well and nothing can ever numb that pain of losing someone who you are close to."

The young woman nods and wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. Mr. Calvert leans forward and offers the handkerchief from his breast pocket to her. She accepts it with gratitude and wipes her eyes gently.

"Thank you," she whispers quietly.

"I think the best thing for both of us is to merely see one another as friends. If we get to know each other better that is. I will always call you Rose, or Mrs. Dawson, whichever you prefer and you can always call me Mr. Calvert. Does that sound fair?"

Rose rolls the piece of cloth in her hands and straightens herself up a bit. She thinks that this is a good idea and that they could make this work as friends. It's not likely that they will ever be family. But perhaps, one day she could see him as a guardian; someone who would look out for her and take care of her mother. Besides, Rose was going to be getting married soon and with a baby on the way, she had to forge a path for herself, something that high society and her mother had denied her for quite a long time.

"Yes, I think that could work," Rose says, giving a small smile.

"Well, I'm mighty glad," Mr. Calvert grins from ear to ear, with a genuine smile that made Rose feel all warm inside. It was clear that her mother had picked a respectful man, one with cordiality and kindness. He wasn't like her father, but the way he smiled reminded her of him… just a little bit.

Rose tries to stand up and Mr. Calvert offers his hand as the baby was beginning to gain weight and becoming quite the load. Rose thanks him and the private investigator kisses her hand and then guides her to the door.

"Thank very much," Rose says.

"My pleasure Miss soon to be Dawson, I'll contact you the minute I find your friend, Wendy."

Rose is about to lead when she realizes that she still has his handkerchief. She turns to give it back. "I should probably…"

"Please keep it," he says, holding his hand up. "Think of it as a gift from a friend."

Rose smiles again, a lot wider this time. "Thank you, Mr. Calvert."

"Please, hopefully, you may call me Henry soon."

…

"Wendy, are you all right, Love?"

Wendy sighs heavily and tears another paper out of the cheap typewriter that Tommy found in the local junkyard and both were trying to put back together. Several of the keys were missing and the former maid had to dig scrap paper out of a rubbish bin behind the apartment she shared with Tommy and his two roommates, Eric, and Saul.

Both men welcomed her into the home, gave her the warmest room in the apartment and even gave them some of their old clothes to wear considering the maid left everything back in Philadelphia. Wendy had never felt so welcomed and couldn't believe that she took this leap of faith, leaving service behind to pursue her dreams of being a writer.

Despite the freedom, she thought she was gaining, there were still several drawbacks to this new life. She didn't have any money and had to apply to work as a waitress at several places, including the local pub where all the local "yahoos" as Tommy called them hung out. She was now working at the pub, but that also meant that she had to put up with many drunken men, grabbing her, wolf whistling at her, amongst other things. Her boss didn't pay her very much and the only upside was that Tommy worked there part-time as the bartender, so being able to talk to him and seeing his smile, made her day a little better. At home, the neighbours were very loud a lot of the time, making it hard for her to concentrate and Tommy, Saul, and Eric did not live very well. When she first arrived, the place was filthy; their clothes were everywhere, everything had a layer of grime, the beds were unmade, the bathroom was indescribable and there was no food at all, they usually spend the daily wages to eat out. Wendy was forced to become the "maid" and teacher again, training the men how to do laundry, make beds, sweep and dust as well as cook. Since she had a job, she could not stay home and be the "housewife" so all three men had to learn these skills for themselves. It was a rough start, Eric washed colours and whites together once and Tommy almost set the house on fire, but for several months now, the place was cleaner and the entire household ran like clockwork.

Even though life certainly wasn't perfect, what really made Wendy especially sad was her writing. She tried to write a little bit each day, mostly at night before bed, but she always seemed to hit a brick wall. Tommy was there as support and he'd even courted her on a few dates, but other than that, nothing really romantic or exciting had happened to her. She did write about Tommy saving her from Mr. Hockley, comparing him to a knight in shining armor saving a princess, but everything else seemed dull and uninteresting. She set the typewriter up by the window to see if she could get inspired, but the view of a grungy alleyway and an abandoned apartment building still did nothing.

"Wendy, are you alright?" Tommy asks again, sticking his head into her room.

Wendy looks up from the typewriter and turns to face him. She gives him a tired smile.

"Write anything good, Shakespeare?"

Wendy forces herself to smile. Even on the darkest of days, Tommy could always make her smile. She felt lucky that she had met him and that they were living together.

Tommy comes over and kisses her on the top of the head.

"I wish the words would just come to me," Wendy sighs.

"Give it time," he says, sitting at the foot of her bed, and grabbing her hand. "You can't give up your dream."

"I know," the young woman sighed and she looks down at Tommy's banged up knee. His dream stopped before it even started so she had to achieve her dream for both of them.

"Maybe something will come up soon, maybe a rich Duchess will walk into the pub?"

Wendy laughs and writes the funny idea down. "Is it time for work already?"

"I'm afraid so love," Tommy says. "Shall I escort her to work?"

"Yes, you shall," Wendy says, getting up and following Tommy out the door.

…

"You're quite the lovely one!" a voice bellows across the restaurant as the young waitress bussing a table. Wendy sighs and continues with her work, the line becoming very old very fast. She moves a tray of dirty glasses and dishes across to the kitchen and then brings out more greasy pub food, passing the bar on her way, where Tommy is mixing drinks expertly. He gives her a small smile which she returns before giving the man who was shouting with her his food.

As she tries to leave, the man grabs her waist and tries to force her into his lap.

"Stay awhile doll," he says and a few of his friends continue to stare and whistle at her. "Tell us about yerself."

"No thank you," Wendy says politely, trying to get out of the man's sweaty grasp. "I have work to do."

Several of the men awe and a few laugh at the brush off. The man grips her tighter and seems hell bent on keeping her there.

"Come on sweetheart, surely being with us is better than workin'?"

Wendy wants to shoot back that it wasn't but keeps her lip buttoned. The man's hairy arm is now trying to go under her apron and the skirt of her uniform. Wendy cries out uncomfortably, partly wishing to go back into service, at least there she wasn't groped and being forced to sit with unpleasant people.

"If I don't get back to work I'll be fired, you if you excuse me," Wendy tries harder to get out of his grasp.

The man glares and now holds her even tighter. His demeanor changes completely and the poor waitress can see into his dark eyes. "You're not goin' anywhere sweetheart," he hisses right into her face.

Wendy tries to remain strong but lets out a whimper. This man is too strong for her and he's roughly trying to force himself on her.

"OY!" a voice says and thankfully, it's Tommy coming to help her. "Leave her be!"

The men laugh and drink so more beer, seeing Tommy's statement as a joke. Fortunately, the laughter weakens the man's grasp on her and she manages to slip out. However, the man will not give up as easily and grabs the skirt of her uniform. Wendy cries out, and Tommy is ready to pound the man into the ground.

"Leave her alone! She's my girl!"

The men laugh again. "Why are you with this toothpick darlin'?" one of the men asks.

Tommy is becoming red in the face and his hands clench up into fists.

"Because he's more honourable than all of you put together," Wendy blurts out. She immediately regrets her words as the men stop laughing and several stand up in anger. The one who was groping her gets up and cracks his knuckles, prepared for the fight. Wendy knew that she had basically sentenced her love to death, despite how much of a fighter Tommy could be, he couldn't take them all. They would murder him and she'd be forced to watch.

Suddenly, the police barge in just as the leader punches Tommy across the face. The officers immediately rush over and apprehend the men, using their billy clubs when needed. Wendy helps Tommy off the floor and back to the bar while the police throw out the gang of men. Wendy leans against the bar while Tommy grabs some ice for his face. Once the men are gone, the waitress lets her tears fall freely.

"I'm so sorry," she says quietly, grabbing a cloth to help clean up the little bit of blood leaking from her love's nose.

"It's fine," he shrugs.

"No, it's not, you shouldn't have to defend me every time a thug whistles at me or tries to grab my behind." Wendy weeps quietly. She wants more than anything to have a different job, maybe as a typist or a secretary, someone who had at least respected her. She wanted to start taking typing lessons to practice her writing, but that costs money and she did not have enough to even consider it.

"It's fine, I'll do anything for my girl," he says, reaching out and grabbing her hand. Wendy feels a little comfort, but not a lot considering their circumstances.

"Who called the police anyways?" the bartender wonders.

"I did,"

The couple looks to see a woman in a large hat and a nice spring coat staring at them from over a book. She puts it down and removes her gloves before reaching her hand out to make their acquaintance.

"Margret Brown," she says, beaming at them with her big brown eyes.

Wendy's jaw drops at the name.

"A-As in **the** Margret Brown?" Tommy says, his eyes wide in equal surprise.

"The one and only," Molly says. "I knew those thugs were going to stir up trouble for you so I decided to ring the fuzz before it got any worse."

Both of the people still stare at this million heiress in utter shock, unable to believe that she was in a lowly pub on the wrong side of town.

"W-What are you doing here?" Wendy finally manages to say.

"Well, I was coming back from a Women's Meeting and felt a little parched so I came in for a drink and some food, only to find you working here."

"M-Me?"

"Yes, I remember you from the DeWitt Bukater home, you're the one who replaces Trudy."

"I'm Wendy," the girl says.

"That's right and you were also the maid who went missing along with Rose."

"How did you…?"

"It's all Ruth would talk about, that her lady's maid and her daughter had both gone missing. At one point, she tried to accuse you of kidnapping Rose, but convinced her that was bogus."

Wendy shakes her head and turns slightly red, she never thought about what Mrs. DeWitt Bukater would think of her after she left; the former maid just assumed that she didn't notice or care, but instead accused her of kidnapping Rose, her good friend. She was equally stunned that Mrs. Molly Brown defended her.

"No thanks required," Molly says, holding up her hand to stop the waitress from speaking. "And you must be the man who saved her from the monster Mr. Hockley."

"I-I am," the man stutters. "I'm Tommy O'Malley."

"Well, I must say that your fight was the talk of the tea table for quite some time."

The couple still looks at each other in utter disbelief, unable to grasp that this rich woman was talking to them and actually caring about their lives. People like them were never given a second glance by the rich.

"Which gave me a great idea," Molly says, eyeing both of them. "My husband needs a tough man like you to help with his mining company. I'd like for you to come and work for him."

Tommy is speechless, he cannot believe what this woman is saying. She's offering him a new job! One that will take him away from the crappy bartending gig.

"I won't take no for an answer Sonny and as for you Wendy, I'd like you to come and work for our Women's Rights movement. Hopefully as our typist."

Wendy's heart stops in amazement and she nearly faints off the bar stool.

"The pay isn't great, but it's definitely better than working here where you get no respect. What do you say, darling?"

Neither of them can talk, they've just been given dream jobs and new opportunities to leave this terrible life behind. Wendy almost starts crying again in joy and she wants to run over and hug Mrs. Brown, saying yes a million times. She looks over at Tommy and he matches her look of disbelief and hope. They would never have to look back again.

"Yes!" they say at the same time.

Molly smiles and reaches over to give Wendy a hug. The waitress is surprised at first and gladly accepts it. The heiress then shakes the bartender's hand. She writes down her phone number.

"This is where you can reach me. After your shifts quit these terrible jobs and call me in my New York apartment. I'll get you all setup."

"Are you an angel?" Wendy sputters suddenly.

"No angel, just someone lending a helping hand," Mrs. Brown says before paying for her drink and sandwich.

She then picks up her book and sighs. "Another boring story about the rich lifestyle. I'd rather hear the tales of everyday people. Those are the ones with the real plights and hardships," The woman smiles once more before walking out of the pub.

Tommy wants to shout in joy and he practically goes over the bar to kiss Wendy. He has tears in his eyes and he can hardly contain his excitement. It's as if a miracle occurred and both of them were being given the chance to start new lives. He could finally get the chance to support Wendy properly and maybe consider marrying her someday. They could afford it now.

Wendy is very much excited, giving into her love's passionate kiss, but something is still on her mind. Her head is spinning from the wonderful news, but the last thing that Mrs. Brown said was giving her inspiration and lots of it. She fumbles around until she finds a pen and a piece of paper, which at this point is just a napkin. She writes down her ideas and then shoves it into her apron pocket. She smiles from ear to ear and gives Tommy yet another kiss.

"I guess we really did meet a Duchess in the bar after all," Wendy laughs to herself.


	67. Chapter 66: A Woman's Right

Chapter 66: A Woman's Right

 _So I've done some research on Molly Brown and she did live in Denver most of the time and she was actually separated from her husband, Joseph Brown before the Titanic sank. I've decided to stretch certain things for the sake of the story, like that she stays in New York more often, she and her husband are separated but Joseph Brown does have a mining business or at least a section in New York._

"Are you sure I look alright?" Wendy asks Tommy several days later.

After meeting Molly Brown in the bar, they had both been able to quite their horrible jobs and be given more promising opportunities. Tommy working for Molly's husband mining company and Wendy as a secretary for the socialite's Women's movement. The couple was dressing in their best for their first days. They had met Mrs. Brown the following day at her New York apartment to discuss their new jobs. Molly set Tommy up to speak with her husband, while she told Wendy where the Women's group would meet each day and what her duties would be.

The two were very nervous, putting on their best clothes for their first day.

"You look as beautiful as the day I met you," the man says with a wink.

Wendy blushes and giggles gently. She'd never thought that in a million years that she'd be on this sort of wild adventure, leaving service completely, finding a beau and getting a proper career that she liked. Her dream of being a writer was still in the back of her mind, but she still had hope that it would one day come true.

The two check the clock and know that it's time to leave. They leave Saul and Eric to their own devices, both are drunk and passed out in the front room from a fantastic party that was held on the sixth floor of their apartment building. Neither Wendy nor Tommy attended due to wanting to be well rested for their jobs.

The two take the bus downtown and then Wendy kisses her beau goodbye and gets off the bus, as he had to go almost all the way across town. She hurries towards the local community building, where the Women's Rights group was meeting.

The former maid straightens her hat and then enters the building. Her heart is racing, in anxiety, but also in excitement. She was finally going to have a respectable profession and she wouldn't be harassed by drunk men anymore.

She finds the room in which the group of women are meeting, all of them sit at a long table. She knocks carefully. Molly sits at the head of the table and smiles at the sight of their newest secretary. The socialite stops the entire meeting to personally greet the arrival.

"Everyone, I'd like you all to meet Wendy, she's going to be our newest typist and secretary."

Many young women smile and nod in approval, muttering greetings of some kind.

"Now, Wendy, you're just in time because we need someone to take notes on some of the committee's ideas," Molly explains.

Molly guides the former maid to an adjacent table and hands her a pencil and paper.

"You will document all of our suggestions and anything else that we feel is important. After that, we'd like you to type them for us as a sort of script, okay?"

Wendy nods and takes the pencil. She then mentally prepares herself for the task ahead. Her hand shakes a little bit as Molly begins their previous conversation about upcoming events.

The young woman takes down whatever she can that she thinks is important said from the committee. Her handwriting was not superb, Rose never got around to teaching her how to make her letters flow on the page or how to make sure the words remained straight. It did not matter that much, however since she would be typing most of it.

The more that Wendy writes, the more intrigued she becomes with what the women are saying. They make all sorts of statements about how that the females of today should have the right to vote as they were as impacted by politics as the men were. They discuss the previous fundraiser, Molly's dinner where the speaker, was moderately received by the crowd. They did not make a lot of money from it because most of the proceeds were going to the widows of Titanic. They needed another event, something to get the people talking. One woman suggested a picket line, or perhaps a billboard claiming that women are people too. They thought of radio broadcasts or even a bake sale. Flyers and brochures could also be useful

Wendy scribbles all the ideas down, but eventually, her mind begins to wander a little bit. As the meeting goes on and on, she starts thinking about her own writing. She remembered what Mrs. Brown had said that she was tired of reading stories about the upper class and that everyone was happy and successful in the end. The free-thinking socialite wanted perspectives on the everyday person. The now rich woman was once an average lower-class woman until her husband became successful in the mining business. She may have found success, but there were still many people who were starving and were looking for means to an end.

The former maid begins thinking about the stories she'd heard while working at the bar. Some patrons, when they were drunk enough, would open up to the waitress and tell them about the things that they had done. From spending time on the railway to escaping a shootout in Texas, all of these fascinated her and these were average people, not the upper class who never did anything that would dirty their gloves and dresses, but real people. She unknowingly begins writing down different tales that were told to her when the meeting becomes boring.

When the meeting finally ends, Molly has to say Wendy's name several times to get her attention. The new secretary reads out everything that she recorded and then the women take a vote on what the best course of action was. Once the vote was over, one of the women then dictated to Wendy what she was to type. It was a letter requesting a meeting with the local churches about a series of bake sales that could be held in the local areas. The woman looks over the maid's work once she's done and eyes her with some disapproval, seeing how her penmanship was rather poor. She wanted to question Molly about it, but the socialite would obviously have none of it. What she said would go, no questions asked.

The new member of the group then follows one of the committee members down to a small area at the front of the building. It was sort of alike an office with a desk set up and a large typewriter on top.

"This will be your work station," the member explains. "You'll be in charge of mailing and posting letters, taking, and making phone calls, sending and receiving telegrams, greeting any visitors, typing and documenting our meetings as well as keeping the place orderly and help in making coffee and refreshments. You will also be the last one to leave every day so you must make sure to lock up the building before you leave… if that clear?"

Wendy simply nods and smiles the entire time. Despite having to serve the women of the committee, which was very similar to her previous job, the other tasks sounded rather important and exciting. She was eager to learn.

The committee member goes through everything for the young woman to do, walking her step by step. It takes most of the morning and then both women go and serve refreshments to the rest of the group. After lunch, most of the women leave to attend to other matter like their families or afternoon tea, leaving Wendy be to get settled and document her first day.

Sitting in the chair, the young woman feels tears come to her eyes, feeling proud.

 _If only mother and father could see me now…_

The typewriter makes her very excited. It looked almost brand new, none of the keys were missing and the paper inside looked so neat and white, not the dumpster, scrap pieces she'd been working on. Wendy sits up very straight, feeling very important and begins to sort through the notes that she'd taken from the meeting.

She starts typing up the letter given to her and she learns very quickly how hard typing really is. Her hands must learn where all the letters are as well as when to space things. If she messes up, she is forced to tear out the page and start anew. It's hard to go back and forth between the written notes and the typed letters. She feels rather flustered, but as the clock on the wall strikes 6 o'clock, she has the letter finished.

Sighing deeply, Wendy puts the letter in one of the drawers and then goes about her job of turning off the lights and locking the building up. Despite how frustrating it is to type, she still likes that she gets to use a typewriter that is practically brand new.

Before leaving, the new secretary sorts through the papers and then finds the list of tales that she'd heard from her previous job. She thought it was mostly nonsense at the time, but now she could see the potential. These would be fascinating to read in book form.

The young woman then catches one of the last busses home and enters her apartment. She finds that Eric and Saul are unsuccessfully trying to cook beef stew. They look very relieved when the woman walks in. She tells them how they have to stir it continuously in order for the broth to thicken properly.

Just as Wendy sets the table, Tommy walks in… at least she thinks it's Tommy. He's covered from head to toe in coal dust. The only way she could tell that it was him was his lively eyes, which especially popped behind the coal dust. He gives them all a toothy grin.

"Saint's alive, shadow men really do exist," Saul jokes.

"He looks like he got into a fight with an octopus," Eric adds.

Wendy greets Tommy with a kiss, despite that he smells like rock and sweat.

"I thought about you all day," he whispers.

"Me too," she smiles back.

"I definitely should not have worn my Sunday shirt," he sighs.

"I'll do my best to clean it," Wendy shrugs. "Now go wash up for supper."

At dinner, Tommy tells them all about his first day. Meeting Joseph Brown and then being given all the equipment, including a headlamp and pickaxe. He talked about how his fellow employees were not too thrilled with him at first until he accidentally hit a rock too hard, causing him to lose his grip and for his pickaxe to crash against the opposite wall, narrowly missing their foreman. All of the miners hated the foreman and they all thought he'd done it on purpose. After that, they treated him to some whiskey after their shift was done. Saul and Eric congratulated their friend before they had to leave for their own night shifts at the bar.

Once alone, Wendy is washing dishes as Tommy comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How was your first day?" he asks.

She tells him about everything that went on and how she got to use a new typewriter and how she learned how to send telegrams. He listens to her with genuine interest, happy that she was practicing what she wanted to do in the future. He kisses her and congratulates her on a job well done.

Afterward, Tommy decides to have a smoke out on the fire escape while Wendy took the piece of paper with her notes on it. She sits down in front of the now drab and ugly looking typewriter compared to the one at work. She puts on a scrap piece of paper and slowly begins to type, the words coming to her like the flow of a river. She starts with a story told by an aged woman who used to come to the bar, order only rum on the rocks and then remind the waitress about how she was once an heiress to a large fortune, but her sneaky, no good brothers managed to swindle her out of every penny. She always thought she deserved that money, she had always been her father's favourite. Wendy could not tell if the story was true, but it got her thinking. She smiles, deciding to incorporate her job into the title. Her hands go over the keys and she types…

 _Chapter 1: A Woman's Right_

 _A/N: Looks like Wendy has some new inspiration. Please review._


	68. Chapter 67: Finding Wendy

Chapter 67: Finding Wendy

"And this concludes our meeting for today," Molly Brown says to the women's group. Wendy blinks a few times, trying to remain alert, but it just wasn't coming to her anymore. The women were discussing the potential of a Christmas bazaar in December and most of the duties would fall on their new secretary and typist.

The former maid stands up with her notes and goes to her desk to start the day's work. She had to send a few telegrams, mail potential sponsors for the upcoming bake sale and file more paperwork.

It had been a few weeks since Wendy started work in the Women's Rights group and the excitement of working at a new job had worn off and she was beginning to become bored. The work she had to do was becoming repetitive and there didn't seem to be a lot of support for the cause. The world was not changing fast enough to meet the group's expectations and even consider emulating their ideas. At this point in time, the women were basically doing things that they would do at home or for the church community; baking and raising money. Wendy felt like she wasn't really contributing much anyway and was mostly there to take notes and do mindless busy work. She wasn't being challenged in any way and a few times longed to go back to service… The one fortunate thing was that since the new secretary could do all her work quickly, she could use the typewriter for her own personal use.

Wendy was becoming increasingly inspired to write her book. Every day she would write down new ideas and type up manuscripts for each chapter on the brand-new typewriter. It felt nice not having to remember which letter key was missing and readjust the ribbon every few sentences. Here, her writing went smoothly. She asked Eric and Saul about stories they picked up during their travels and at the bars, picking the most interesting ones to write about. She'd ask Tommy about the miners and what kind of tales they spun as they worked in the dark all day. She'd also borrow library books so she could learn about the different styles of writing and emulate them herself. With every passing day, Wendy became more confident in her writing and she was hoping that maybe one day, she'd become a published author.

On this particular day, the former maid thought that it might be a good idea to write about Molly's experiences of being a common woman and rising to a socialite. As the other women cleared out, Wendy stood up to talk to the woman.

"Excuse me, Miss Brown," she says.

"Wendy, darling, I've told you to call me Molly."

"I'm sorry…Molly, but I wanted to get your story about going from an ordinary woman to the unsinkable heiress you are today."

"What might this be for? The newsletter?"

Wendy swallows. She becomes nervous, thinking that Miss Brown might discourage her writing stories on the side instead of doing her job during business hours.

Molly comes around Wendy's desk and spies the file folder of her typed manuscripts on top of several library books. Before the secretary can stop her, the socialite begins reading them. The writer's heart is pounding in her chest as she wants to grab the papers back. She wasn't ready for anyone to read them, she hadn't even read them aloud to herself. She just wanted to get the stories down and worry about everything else later. The room becomes very silent, except for the ticking wall clock.

Before too long, Molly begins to chuckle, scaring the daylights out of the secretary. Her hands shake while holding the pages and her eyes are alight with joyful laughter. She continues through each of the stories, not putting them down until she's finished. When the heiress does, she locks eyes with Wendy.

"Darlin' you have quite the sense of humor and way of telling tales."

"Y-You're not mad?"

"Mad? Why on earth would I be mad?"

"I'm typing them when I should be working…"

"Wendy, you're actually doing more than this right's group could ever do. Many people don't listen to those picketing lines and a group of women shouting for their entitlement to vote and have fair pay, but in print, that's a different story. They will listen to an author, especially if it is entertaining and these certainly are."

"Well, t-thank you."

"You've really captured the essence of not just the common man, but we, womenfolk as well."

"I can't really take all the credit, I get a lot of the stories from Saul and Eric, Tommy's roommates who still work in bars."

"Well, they certainly are something and darlin' I don't blame you for spending your time on other things. Our group can't do much right now. We're basically dogs chasing our tails."

"You mean you knew we weren't getting anywhere."

"Of course, I did. I see it in your eyes and pretty much everyone else's in the group. It's the look of hopelessness. Sure, we talk a big game about being able to vote and equality among the sexes, but in the end, it doesn't make a lick of difference. It's just that, it's not the right time to be fighting. The world is too engrained in the past. Heck, some people would wish Queen Victoria back to the throne if they could. The rich circle still think that they own everything and that their way of life is the 'right' one. Those of the lower classes are more open to change, but the pompous jerks of high society don't want to hear it. If they found out that the foundation of their world was crumbling, they'd probably burst their corsets and eat their top hats. Just you wait for it Wendy, one day some big event will happen and everything will change. We don't know what that is yet, but once it does, the world will be thrown into chaos and that is when we make our move."

"So why have the group at all?"

"We're planting the seed in people's minds. Once it's there, we just need to wait for it to sprout and grow. We need to let them know that our cause will not die that easily and remind the men out there that we, women are tough. We were the ones who brought them into this world and therefore, we deserve our equal dues and credit. We've done a lot to make history happen. They may ignore us now, but trust me, in a few years, we'll be the talk of the entire city. We will make history, just you wait."

Wendy smiles, very happy to hear this and to know that Molly was just as passionate about her work as she was. She was a person that the young woman could look up to and emulate.

"But until then, you're pretty much free to do as you please with that typewriter. Make a change in your own way. A small action can have a massive effect."

"It certainly does not feel like it," Wendy admits.

"Right now, it doesn't but you have to keep your head and your hopes up and don't give up."

Wendy beams at the socialite and gets up to hug the woman. "Thank you."

"You're welcome child, not how about that story."

The two women sit down as Molly spins her tale of "rags to riches" as she called it, which became the title of that chapter. The two laughed and spent the rest of the afternoon in the enjoyment of each other's company, daydreaming of a changing world.

…

Meanwhile, a private investigator makes his way along the streets in the rougher part of town. He'd been following leads on this "Wendy" for weeks now and was mostly coming up with dead ends. The name was very common and he still didn't know her last name. Additionally, he didn't have a picture either. He knew that the unusual double wedding was fast approaching and he didn't want to let Rose down. He knew the maid meant a lot to the girl and he thought that this would be his wedding present to the bride to have her true friends there.

After spending most of the afternoon, chasing down a few false leads and knocking on doors, he decides to stop into a local bar for a few drinks and some nourishment. Henry Calvert was not the type of person who would give up so easily, but this case was so far stumping him. He didn't know a lot about the girl, other that she was an aspiring writer and used to work for the DeWittBukater's. He also knew that she spent time with a man named Tommy, but again, that was a very common name. The unopened invitation for the girl seemed to be gathering dust in his coat pocket.

"May I have a scotch on the rocks with a twist," the man orders.

"Comin' right up," a youthful face says

Mr. Calvert pinches the bridge of his nose, very deep in thought. He wanted to start smoking a cigar to calm himself, but since he'd started courting Ruth, she insisted that he cut back. He used to smoke so much that it would cover his entire face. She knew it could not be healthy.

The private investigator pulls out a picture of Ruth and Rose. Two very beautiful and feisty women, both of whom had found love in the most unlikely of places.

"Those are right pretty lasses," the bartender comments as he serves Henry his drink. "They yours then?"

"I wish, the mother is the one I'm courting and the daughter is getting married soon."

"They seem like right Lovely Lasses, you're a lucky man."

"I suppose I am," he says, taking a swig of his whiskey.

"Is the elder one a widow?"

"Yes, her husband passed away a few years ago. They were high society for a long time until the man left them in debt. They lost pretty much everything but each other."

"But they seem to have found a lot, don't ya think?"

Henry smiles. This cheerful man had managed to brighten his day and make the private investigator feel a lot better about himself. The well-meaning compliments and witty antics he performed behind the bar like juggling glassware or making toothpicks and napkins into cigarettes by light the ends, made it more entertaining. For a few moments, he managed to forget his current dilemma.

As the evening approaches, Henry is eating some greasy pub food and having a second drink, when three people walk in. Two men and a woman. They go straight to the bar and greet the tender.

"How are you, Saul?" One of them asks. The man is covered from head to toe in coal dust and despite this, the woman seems to be clinging to his arm the entire time.

"I'm fine, how was work my coal mining friend?"

"Busy,"

"And how about the lovely lass?"

"I got a new chapter done and got an inspiring speech from the great Molly Brown."

The name perks Mr. Calvert's interest. He recognized the name. Ruth often talked about the famous socialite, calling her a friend and someone who had helped her when she was in need. He'd read about her in the papers and apparently, she, Ruth and Rose had all sailed on the _Titanic_ together. Ruth did not go into detail about Molly's actions in the lifeboat and Henry didn't press her. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like in the Atlantic, the sounds of people drowning around them, unable to help. He figured that she was haunted by the experience and he'd seen a great amount of trauma in his life. Additionally, Henry knew that Molly Brown would be coming to the wedding and he'd hoped that he could formally introduce himself as well as get to know this fascinating, "unsinkable" woman. He pretends to be distracted and quietly listens in.

"I cannot wait to meet her someday," the bartender, Saul says.

"It might not happen," the woman says. "She's a very busy woman."

"I can imagine," the coal miner says.

The third man finally speaks up. "When do you get off work Saul? Tommy wants to go to the moving picture show at the Nickelodeon."

The name again peaks the P.I's interest.

"I'll be off by eleven."

"I really want to see Helen Gardner in _Cleopatra_ ," the woman pipes up.

"Well come and make yourselves comfortable, it'll be another hour."

"I'm going to wash up," the coal covered man says. "Stay here with Eric and Saul my Wendy bird, I'll be back soon."

Wendy-bird. That was from _Peter Pan_ and the girl's name was Wendy. Henry's mind was connecting the dots in his mind. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, this might be the Wendy he's looking for. He cannot get his hopes up too much, his mind is buzzing, wanting more information from her to confirm his suspicions.

"Alright," she says. The former maid sits on a bar stool next to the private investigator. He examines her from the corner of his eye, she seemed the right age and fit Rose's description almost to a T, but he could not be certain. He swirls the ice in his whiskey, hoping for more.

An idea hits him. Slowly, he pulls out the photo of Rose and Ruth and places it next to himself as well as some cash for the drink. He hopes that if the woman does recognize her former employers, she'll say something.

The potential writer is happy that she no longer works in a crummy place like this, she hated the constant abuse from the drunken men and the low pay. At least at her new job, she had some respect. Her eyes wander a little bit to ensure that she will not be victimized by someone when she notices the photo on the bar. Her heart skips a beat and she looks at the man next to her. He didn't look like Mr. Dawson, but she also knew that Mrs. Bukater's husband had long since passed, so who else would have a picture of her friend Rose and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. She thought he might be a family member or a friend. She was very curious to know what had become of Rose and whether she'd had the baby yet. She wondered how she and Mr. Dawson were doing. Her eyes flicker from the man to the photo and back.

"Excuse me?' she finally says. "Those two women in the photo, do you know them?"

"Why yes I do," Henry says, turning to face the woman. He knew in his heart that he'd found Wendy, he just needed to ask. "In fact, I am courting the older one."

"Mrs. DeWitt Bukater?"

"Yes, do you know them. Miss…? Uh…?"

"Galton. Wendy Galton. And yes, I know them. I used to work for them."

"Really?" he says, trying to sound intrigued. He decided to reel in his catch before presenting her with the invitation. "What did you do?"

"I was their maid for a long time."

"What made you leave?"

"It's a bit of a long story that I won't bore you with, but do tell me how is Miss Rose."

"She's quite fine actually."

"Is the baby all right?"

"Yes, and in fact, Miss Rose will be getting married in a few weeks."

Wendy's face fell for a moment and her heart began to sink. She was happy for her friend, but as her friend, one might expect to get an invitation to the event. Maybe she didn't know Rose well enough, or maybe Rose forgot about her entirely. She fights back the tears in her eyes and swallows the lump in her throat.

"Oh…" she manages. "Well, please give her my congratulations then."

"It's going to be a simple affair, but I'm afraid Miss Rose will not be very happy on that day," Henry says.

"Why?"

"Because one of her very good friends will not be there. A woman named Wendy." He then removes the invitation from his coat pocket and hands it to her.

Wendy's eyes go wide in surprise as she takes the envelope from him. She lets a few tears slip from her eyes as she sees her name written on the front. She immediately recognized the handwriting. Her heart flutters as she rips open the top.

Sure enough, inside is a wedding invitation for October 22, 1912, addressed to her. The former maid begins to laugh loudly and a smile spreads across her face. She looks up at the man in surprise, he gives her a small smirk.

"Forgive my cheekiness Miss Galton, but I believe that this invitation was for you."

"She… she didn't forget me?!"

"Heavens no, in fact, I was hired to find you. Luckily my affinity for whiskey led me right to you."

The girl impulsively hugs the man and lets out a scream of laughter through her happy tears. Saul and Eric look at her very confused and slightly alarmed. Even other bar patrons are looking at them funny.

"Thank you," is all she can say.

Just then, Tommy comes into the bar and sees the scene.

"Oy!" he hollers. "I can't go away for five minutes and have some man putting his hands all over her."

"Tommy relax, this man just gave me very good news and I was hugging him to thank him."

"What news?"

"You know my former employers the DeWitt Bukaters?"

"Aye,"

"Well, my friend, Rose is getting married and we've been invited."

"We?"

"I'm allowed to bring a guest; will you go with me, Tommy?"

He reaches over and hugs his bright-eyed girl. "Of course, I will."

She smiles and kisses him on the mouth in the moment of passion. Both pull back in surprise for a moment and Wendy wraps her arms around the man she was courting. She knew that she was falling in love with him, truly. She was getting those feelings that Rose talked about the ones she had with Jack Dawson. Joy, passion, excitement, curiosity, and everything in between. She turns back to the private investigator. He smiles at the happy couple.

"I'm sure Miss soon to be Dawson will want you to visit before the wedding, so here's her address." He hands a card to her.

Wendy embraces the older gentleman. "Thank you so much," she squeals happily.

"I hope to see you at the wedding then," the private investigator says, paying for his meal and tipping his hat to the happy couple.

Another case completed.

…

A few days later, the doorbell of Emma and Peter's home rings. Rose gets up to answer it, ensure that Sybil stays in the living room. She shifts to carry her bulging stomach a little more comfortably as she answers the door.

Her green eyes widen in shock when she sees who's at the door.

"Wendy?!"


	69. Chapter 68: Planning for the Future

Chapter 68: Prepare for the Future

The two women embrace tightly, despite the latter's growing baby bump. Rose has tears in her eyes, finally being reunited with her friend.

"How are you?" the redhead asks, so happy.

"I am fine thank you, Rose. Might I extend congratulations to you?" Wendy lifts her friend's left hand, which reveals the beautiful diamond ring. It looked so amazing that the potential writer was envious of its beauty.

"Oh thank you, Wendy. You're so sweet and I'm so very happy that you will be able to come!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You're the sweetest person. Please come in and tell me what you've been doing since we parted ways so long ago."

Rose leads Wendy into the living room where Sybil is happily playing on the floor. The blonde child only glances up once to view the stranger in the room before going back to playing. Wendy's eyes go wide for a moment. She glances at Rose's growing stomach. Has that much time passed? Could they have two children already?

"W-Who is this?" the former maid asks.

"This is Sybil. She is my best friend, Emma's sister."

"So, this isn't your house?"

"No, Jack and I live with Peter, Emma, and Sybil. Just until we save up enough money to buy our own."

"Oh."

"They also provided safety from Cal."

"I see."

"Would you like some hot cider Wendy? Emma made it fresh this morning."

"If you don't mind."

The potential writer sits on one of the couches and takes in her surroundings. She likes the house a lot, it's quaint and very well decorated. It's nowhere near as extravagant as the DeWitt Bukater mansion, but also not as dilapidated and small has her family farm house used to be. It was the perfect suburban house. The young woman watches the small child on the floor, building with wooden blocks, or rather stacking them and then taking the top block to put in her mouth. The place is a mess, as should be expected of a house with an infant, but there are piles and piles of papers on the kitchen and coffee table. Wendy watches her former employer mill about the kitchen expertly. She had changed quite a lot since the maid had last seen her. She felt comfortable in the environment and very capable. When Wendy had first let Rose into the kitchen, she felt very out of place and didn't know what a whisk and ladle were. She was no longer the spoiled heiress, but an efficient and competent woman.

Rose brings two mugs of hot cider and hands it to her friend before they both sit down.

"This baby does not want me to be on my feet for long periods of time anymore."

"How far along are you?"

"Six months, almost seven."

"Wow."

"The date is approaching fast."

"Do you feel prepared?"

"I'm still very nervous, which I've been told is normal, but I have spent a lot of my time caring for this one," Rose indicates the small girl on the floor. "I know how to boil milk properly, change a diaper and even take temperatures."

"Things certainly have changed for you," Wendy says, with a smile before sipping the warm cider.

"Yes, and it will keep changing. Jack has a job as a police sketch artist and he's saving money so we can buy a house of our own. Hopefully, we can start looking after the honeymoon."

"What about your dream to be a moving picture actress?"

"It'll just have to stay a dream for now. Until the baby is old enough to be cared for."

"You mean like a governess or nanny?"

"Maybe, but Jack and I will most definitely be doing most of the raising. I will be an actress Wendy, one day you will see my name on a poster."

"I have much faith in you, you are a woman who can achieve anything she sets her mind to."

"You're sweet to say that. Oh, my goodness, I'm being so selfish by talking about myself so much. What about you Wendy? Have you published anything yet?"

The former maid turns red. She felt as if Rose had transformed her life completely, while she had not. Her friend had so much going for her. She was getting married to a man she loved, she was about to have a family of her own, she still had her eyes on a career, she had a place to live and loving friends. "N-Not yet. I am writing in my spare time."

"What are you doing for a living? Not service again I hope."

"No, I'm a secretary."

"Really?"

"Yes, I work for Molly Brown's Women's Rights Group."

"Really?!" Rose's eyes go wide with fascination and excitement. "I'm so happy for you. That must be so amazing to work with Molly."

"It's a good job. Doesn't pay a lot, but at least it was better than waitressing. I got no respect at that job and Tommy often had to jump in to protect me. He took many beatings trying to defend my pride."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Rose says sympathetically. She had yet to experience the disrespect and mistreatment of women in the working world. She was still blissfully unaware being at home all the time, but the red-head heard about it often from Emma. Her friend had failed several of her courses she took to become a respected lawyer because of her gender, but she wasn't giving up and wanted to be taken seriously as the managing partner of her father's law firm and valued as a capable lawyer. Rose knew deep down that this was a losing battle, the world was not progressing the way Emma needed it to in order to honour her father's wishes and be as successful as possible. She knew that Emma was as stubborn and hot-headed as herself, which was one of the many traits that Jack loved about her, and wouldn't go down without a fight.

"It's all right, at least at this job I am respected, even though not a lot happens."

"Hopefully, things will change in the future," Rose says optimistically.

"Yes."

"So you said you were writing in your spare time? Are you writing poetry?"

"No, I'm composing a novel about the common man."

"What do you mean?" Rose asks, not fully understanding.

"Well, most books today focus on the elite and very high-class people. It's always their perspective on society. They are the people who always win and always achieve success. They give a sort of false hope of achieving the American Dream. They talk about their fancy trips and the truth is, they live in this bubble that is not interesting in the least…"

Rose nods in great agreement. She was so happy to be free of that world, no longer trapped in a gilded cage, meant to just sit there and look pretty. She always wanted to make something of herself and have adventures, the type Jack always told her about. She knew a lot of this would have to wait, but it would happen if she had anything to say about it.

"So, I want to write something that's much different, about the people who are like you or me. Those who work and make the world go around. Those with most interesting stories to tell, about overcoming hardships and raising the next generation. Those who have helped build the Brooklyn bridge or watched Lady Liberty be erected. Those who have seen changes and make seemingly meaningless differences, but make their lives all the more fascinating."

"Wendy that sounds wonderful," Rose says. "I guarantee that I will be the first one to buy that book. You should really talk to Jack, he's had some amazing adventures that could help your story."

"Actually, I was hoping to write about both of you."

"Why both?"

"Because you, Rose are one of the rare few people who want to be a part of society. Who hates the high-class life. Molly Brown has provided some of that contrast, but she went from poor to rich, while you've gone from rich to…" Wendy stops, realizing that she may have overstepped.

"Modesty," Rose finishes for her.

"Y-yes,"

"I am now a commoner, far from the kings of the past," Rose smiles.

"Your story would be fantastic. I could even write a section on you and Jack falling in love. I'm sure it would make a fantastic story and who knows, it might make an amazing moving picture."

Rose smiles at first but then her lips form into a frown. None of the four survivors felt entirely comfortable talking about the ship sinking. It was horrifying, to say the least. Rose envied anyone who doesn't know the sickening sound of people freezing and dying in the water, the splashing in the icy waters and cries of desperation for help that would never come. The hopelessness, the thought of never coming out alive and losing the ones you loved. She still had horrendous nightmares and could only be soothed by Jack being there to hold her.

"I-I'm not so sure about that Wendy, but whenever you'd like to talk to us, just let us know."

"Oh, thank you," the former maid says.

"Perhaps after the wedding though," the pregnant woman stares at the piles of papers on the coffee and kitchen table. "Planning a double wedding has been an absolute nightmare of its own. There's the seating arrangements, menu options, writing our vows, organizing the church choir, finding the hall, picking flowers, adjusting the dresses, decorating the church, picking the prayers to be said, the music, what sort of drinks to serve… It was nicer when my mother was taking care of the details."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Wendy offers.

"Wendy, you came here to visit, not to be pulled into the fray of planning a wedding."

"I want to help," she insists earnestly. She wanted to be included, she wanted to be a part of this important moment in her friend's life. "I want to be there for my friend. Put her mind at ease and help protect the baby inside from too much stress. My mama always said that an unhealthy mother means an unhealthy baby."

Rose smiles and grabs her friend's hand. She cannot believe how much her life has changed for the better. She had the man of her dreams, she made peace with her mother, she was expecting a child, she had amazing friends and above all, she had her freedom.

"Thank you, Wendy, that means a lot."

"So, what's the first problem?"

"I need to select a list of songs for the ceremony and for the reception."

"If only Eric were here," the writer, now co-wedding planner says. "He is amazing with music."

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten that you were living with several young men."

"I only have eyes for Tommy."

"I don't doubt that," Rose says with a wink, knowing what it was like to be in love with only one man, no matter how many others were vying for her attention.

The next few hours are spent going over a check list of things to do. The two make decisions on the music, types of flowers, seating arrangements, decorations and a few other things that only needed approval from Jack and the other couple getting married. Wendy gets to see Rose in her wedding dress, veil and all and she ends up crying happy tears, pleased to see that her friend truly was free and living an ideal dream. A dream that she hopes to one day have as well.

When the working people come home, Rose introduces them to her friend and she is greeted warmly by them. Even Sybil takes a liking to Wendy, especially when she secretly feeds the ten-month old baby a sugar cube during dinner.

By the end of the night, Rose feels slightly more at ease and hugs her friend tightly, asking her to come and help again, which Wendy happily agrees to. The potential writer leaves with a large smile on her face and her heart beating in excitement and anticipation. For the first time in a long time, she felt happy. Her life had a good direction and there was much potential for growth and more thrilling changes. Her life was truly an adventure of its own and she hoped that as long as she had friends and Tommy to lean on, she could do no wrong.

She took the bus to her tiny apartment and wraps her arms around her coal covered boyfriend. She felt content and couldn't wait for the next hurdle, which was trying to convince Tommy to wear a tuxedo for the wedding.

…

The activity in the Carson/Whitman/Dawson/DeWitt Bukater home increased into a frenzy. The wedding(s) were less than two weeks away and none of them felt any less stressed or prepared. Even with Wendy's help, no one rested until almost midnight every night. Emma was making last minute alterations to her, Sybil's and Rose's dresses, selecting the flowers and balancing the finances. Holly was baking the wedding cake and having all her neighbours help in decorating the church. Peter was working with Carl to secure the hall for the reception, making sure all their guests, including his parents and family, had accommodations in the big city and ensuring that all the food was going to be prepared on time. Jack oversaw the music, making sure that Father Bill was prepared, and ensuring that all the suits and wardrobe were in order for the male participants. Ruth was in the middle of the fray too, but her suggestions mostly made everyone else annoyed, even if her intentions were honourable. It was a team effort that may have seemed scattered and messy, but they all hoped it would all come together in the end.

The night before the wedding, both brides and grooms slept in separate rooms per tradition, but Jack sneaked down to Rose's room and brought his sketchbook with him. In dim light and quiet circumstances, he drew his beautiful bride-to-be as she slept, her arms cradling their future child. He had to fight back tears of his own, he couldn't believe how amazing his life was now and he could not wait to finally marry the woman of his dreams. He felt as if fate had come to pull the two together, then push them a part to test to see how genuine their love was and then pull them together again. He knew he would never love anyone as much as Rose and he thanked his lucky stars that fate had chosen her to be his soulmate.

However, unbeknownst to anyone, fate had several more pushes to test the once star-crossed couple.

The first one started tomorrow.

 _Stay tuned, the wedding is coming. FINALLY. Please read and review._


	70. Chapter 69: Going to Get Married

Chapter 69: Going to Get Married

Church bells ring merrily announcing that the ceremony would be starting soon. The trees outside have turned wonderful colours of red, orange, and yellow, setting a vivid and quaint background for this double wedding. Patrons from all the walks of life, dressed in their very best, are entering the church, greeting friends, and family members, as well as becoming acquainted with new ones.

Molly Brown pulls up in her black car and helps Wendy out of the back it, dressed in her nicest gown, Tommy soon follows behind in a tuxedo. The heiress' chauffeur goes to park the car while the passengers walk towards the church, which was decorated with beautiful flowers and lively decorations, all homemade. The male of the group offers his arms for both the ladies and begins to escort them to the front doors. Molly had insisted on helping both find suitable attire for this occasion. She'd done it for Jack once before and was more than happy to do it again. After both insisted that the heiress not to buy them formal wear, but she did manage to find clothing from both her children's wardrobe that fit them well enough. The "unsinkable" woman did insist on driving the couple to the wedding instead of having them take the bus to the church.

Wendy is very excited and happy for her friend Rose. She hopes one day that she and Tommy could get married in a church, maybe not as extravagant, but simply done. She also knew she could write about this unusual wedding for her book and hopefully hear a few more stories to write about.

At the door to the church, Father Bill greets each of the guests with a smile and a warm handshake. Next to him stands the mother of one of the brides, Ruth DeWitt Bukater, dressed in a simple, but a very pleasant floral dress and hat. When she sees Molly Brown, she gives the woman a hug, very out of character for the seemingly stiff upper-lipped woman. She chatted with the only woman from first class whom she could still call a friend. She also greeted Wendy like a friend, not a former servant.

Ruth's transformation impressed Molly Brown; she actually thought that losing their fortune was the best thing to ever happen to DeWitt Bukaters. They seemed to be much happier and free to be themselves. She also thought that today was not about class or how fancy the party was, but everyone being equals to celebrate this wondrous occasion.

Mr. Calvert drives up to the church and greets the woman he's courting with a nice kiss on the cheek.

"Just think, this might be us someday," he whispers with a mischievous wink.

"In due time, Henry, but today it's all about Rose."

The private investigator goes on to meet other guests.

Peter's parents; John, and Talia Whitman, had come from West Virginia just a few days before, staying at Holly and Carl's house, along with Holly's twin, Halley, and Peter's brother, Joseph. They were the only parents of the grooms there. They receive much thanks and praise about their son from co-workers and were asked about how happy they must be for their him. They had become acquainted with Ruth as she was the only other parent to meet and took a fair liking to her, but they could still sense the first-class behaviour inside of her. At least, she saw them as equals, not lowly farmers.

Meanwhile, Holly is doing her best to keep Thomas in line. Her rambunctious four-year-old was anything but calm or quiet. He complained that morning about having to wear the suit and tie and now he was running all around the church, with his mother struggling to chase after him in her dress. He thought that this was a fun game of hide-and-seek, going behind pillars and statues with his mother in pursuit. She slips in her heels several times trying to catch him. She finally caught him behind a statue of St. Thomas (ironically) and he began to get restless, fighting her grasp. Finally, Jack came to her rescue and gave the kid some pencils and paper to draw with.

Jack Dawson had become very close with Thomas over the past few weeks during all the wedding planning. He adored the young child's enthusiasm and wonder at the world. He was often reminded of little Cora. He began showing Thomas how to draw as the boy showed interest in the pictures that the sketch artist was making. The four-year-old particularly liked drawing trucks and other cars, instead of people, but Jack made it work to bond with the boy. Jack and Rose were close with the young child and felt like it was practice for when their own baby came.

Carl carries Sybil around the church to keep her calm and clean. The tiny tot contended on crawling everywhere now, but on Ruth's insistence that they keep the infant's dress clean until after the ceremony, so he was dealing with a restless child. Sybil is dressed in a small white gown with pink trimming and a rose sash around the center. She wore a small matching pink headband in her blonde hair, which she was not particularly pleased about wearing on her small head. Several times Holly had to wrestle the headpiece from the tot's mouth and clean it off. Her feet had small white shoes that kicked incessantly with distaste of having to be carried. She was also gaining another tooth and screeched often in annoyance.

Jack and Peter wait close to the front of the church, re-adjusting their ties and swallowing hard.

"Do you feel ready?" Peter asks, as his compatriot paces in front of the altar.

"I should be, Rose is the one for me there's no doubt about it. So why am I so nervous? Were you like this that night on _Titanic_?"

"Yes, I was, but I also felt ready. I knew that I loved Emma and I'd do anything to make her happy. I knew she and I were destined to be together. We never hesitated or strayed away from our love and that wedding was a way to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was true. Emma also wanted a fresh start for when we returned to America, leave the past behind and start anew. I know this applies to you and Rose as well. You two have been through a lot and your love never wavered, did it?"

"No."

"Then that is the reassurance you need to know that you and Rose are meant to live a happy life together."

Jack stops pacing and stands next to Peter.

"Thanks, Peter, you always know just what to say."

"Just doing what a best man/groom does," he chuckles.

…

Unbeknownst to any of the happy wedding guests, a few shadowed figures had parked their car at the rear entrance of the church, off to the side so they would not be seen.

"Are you sure he only wants the girl?" one of the men asks.

"He was very clear about it and we do whatever it takes to get her."


	71. Chapter 70: Vows of Love

Chapter 70: Vows of Love…

The two young brides are in the back of the church, preparing for their walk down the aisle and butterflies fluttering in their stomachs.

Rose steps into the dress that she picked out so many weeks ago. The silky fabric felt almost strange as she was now used to more common and comfortable clothing to accommodate her baby bump. Emma has done an amazing job fixing it and even improving it in some places, especially to accommodate the baby. She twirls around a few times before stepping from behind the changing screen.

Like Déjà vu from her wedding on the Titanic, Rose reveals herself to Emma. Her gasps and smiles from ear to ear at the sight of the young bride. Rose's pale face was set off perfectly by the dress, the sequins she'd added to the dress made it even more glittering. Her fiery red hair was pulled up but perfectly frames her petite face. The baby bump was well accented as well and the entire pregnancy made her glow even more in the afternoon sunlight peeking through the window.

"You look so beautiful," Emma says tearfully.

"You really think so?"

"Rose, you look like an angel with red hair."

Rose turns to look at herself in the mirror and gasps. She doesn't seem to recognize the woman in the mirror. Her face is sculpted and perfectly shaped by some red ringlets and makeup. Her dress glitters with each step she makes and it hugs the curves of her body. Of course, she wasn't petite or thin like she used to be, but she still looks amazing.

Rose continues to stare at herself, unable to comprehend what she looks like. She is no longer that frightened little girl who was forced into a loveless marriage and had to conform to society. She wasn't a caterpillar trapped in a cocoon. She'd finally fought and won that battle within herself and around her. She was a woman, a butterfly who has spread her wings and was now free. She pulls her cheeks up into a winning smile, a genuine and happy smile. Her entire body seems to glow with joy and happiness.

Emma was equally enchanted by Rose's beauty. She never imagined that her friend could look so beautiful, in fact, she never imagined that they would become friends when Rose saved her and Sybil from falling all those months ago. Their worlds were so very different, polar opposites of one another, and yet fate had brought the five of them together, united and filled with trust. Two different personalities coming together and creating something new. Emma had learned from Rose to always embrace the love you are given, that happiness comes at the best of moments, and to not judge people so harshly because of what class they came from. Rose had learned from Emma to become the woman she truly wanted to be, find the strength inside of oneself to fight for what they believed in and above all, that family and love are the most important things in the world. Now, they were like sisters, supportive and loving to one another. Emma was so joyful to have people to care for and help fill the void left by her parents. It would never fully be gone, but to have Rose, Jack, and the new baby on the way; her life felt so different and so much happier than before. She wished that her parents could've met Rose and Jack, no doubt they would've welcomed them with open arms. Emma knows what she's going to do to truly seal their family bond.

"Here," Emma says.

Rose looks down to see that Emma is handing her the family comb. It's dented on the teeth, one of the jewels is missing and it's a little rusted from the sea water, but the family vow was still clear as ever.

Quickly, Rose pushes Emma's hands away. "Emma, I can't, I'm not a part of your family, besides you deserve to wear it on your wedding day." She in no way deserved to wear a family heirloom, something that was so special to her friend.

"I already wore it on my wedding day Rose. This is your day and you deserve all the luck in the world."

Rose pauses for a moment. She thinks about all the hardships that she and Jack had endured to get to this day; the separation, the sadness, the drama, the anger, the joy, all of it contributed to her finally getting to marry him. She'd never thought that her life would go this way, but she trusted her instinct then and she still trusts it now. Jack was the one for her and not even a sinking ship could stand in their way.

"Jack and I don't believe in luck, not anymore. Just love."

"Well, this is a symbol of love. I consider you part of the family now and you deserve to wear this on your special day, marrying the man you love."

Rose has tears forming in her eyes. She didn't deserve a friend like Emma, a true friend who looked out for her and made sure that she was happy. Rose knew she could never repay Emma or Peter for what they'd done for her and Jack.

"You really think of me as part of the family?"

"Rose, you're like my sister and I can't imagine you not wearing this."

Rose heart explodes with happiness, she embraces Emma tightly and her "sister" returns the favour. Both hug each other tightly out of love and support.

"Don't cry yet!" Emma laughs. "You'll smudge your makeup."

Rose wipes her eyes carefully and then sits in the chair. Like she had done for her, Emma puts the comb in Rose's updo style that allowed some of her curls to hang down.

"Forever and always," Emma smiles. She adds the veil on top of the comb.

"You'll be my sister forever and always," Rose smiles back. "I always wanted a sister."

Emma then examines herself in the mirror. She'd fixed her mother's dress up to the best of her abilities, but unfortunately, it was not likely to ever truly be the same. She had managed to get most of the blood out, but there was still a slightly tinted stain on it. The lace was more worn and had been ripped in some places due to the seawater. A good mending job had hidden the flaws. Her stomach turns a few times, knowing that this was the dress that she narrowly escaped the sinking of the _Titanic_ in… the ship that had sunk on what was supposed to be her wedding night. She has a few brief flashes of the horrors they'd all endured that night. Being trapped in the hallways while it filled with water, running towards the lifeboats, being shot at, and encountering the dark sea that nearly killed all of them that fateful night.

The young girl had also managed to embroider small faux flowers and diamonds into the skirt and bodice of the dress to cover up the damage it had endured in the Atlantic Ocean. It didn't look like her mother's dress anymore, but her own, a work of art. She now looks like she's dancing in a field of small white flowers every time she twirls. She had bought a veil that had a crown of flowers on top that she now placed in her own hair. She looks like a maiden of the forest or a princess…

She sighs heavily, sad that her parents were not here to see this. Both women have butterflies in their stomachs, but the good kind, ones of excitement and anticipation. For Rose, it might also be the baby kicking.

There's a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Emma asks, cautiously.

"It's the mother of one of the brides."

 _The only mother of the brides_ , Emma thinks to herself, her stomach turning once in grief.

Ruth comes into the room, indicating the ceremony would be beginning shortly, carrying Sybil, and she gasps at the sight of Rose.

"Oh Rose, you look so beautiful!" The elderly DeWitt Bukater hands the small child to her sister's waiting arms and goes towards her daughter. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world. A true vision of beauty."

Rose turns a shade of red. She'd been waiting for her mother to say those words for a very long time. She felt whole again, like a whole new woman. She was marrying the man she loved, her mother was there to support her, her family and friends were here to celebrate, she was carrying a child; everything seems so perfect. She reaches over to hug her mother, but Ruth hesitates.

"You'll wrinkle your dress!"

Rose rolls her eyes at her mother and still holds her arms out for an embrace. Ruth then sighs, shrugs, and then hugs her glowing daughter anyway. They certainly weren't those high-class women anymore.

"I only wish your father had lived to see this day," she whispers before kissing both her daughter's cheeks."

"He's watching from above," Rose smiles, hiding that hint of sadness that he wouldn't be there to walk her down the aisle.

Ruth sniffles a little bit. "I just wish I had been more supportive of you all those years growing up. I feel like I'm losing you all over again."

"You're here now Mother, and that is what is important."

"I'm sorry for all that I've done to you," Ruth insists.

"Apology accepted." Rose is stunned. Six months ago, she wanted her mother out of her life forever, angry for how she'd treated her own child and forbade her and Jack to be together. At the time, she never cared about anything except staying wealthy, and now… She was going to be a wonderful grandmother and was now apart of her life, permanently. Although Rose does wish that they could've made amends sooner, the past is the past and now is the time to look towards the future.

Ruth then turns to young Emma.

"Oh Emma, you are a vision of true beauty as well."

"Thank you, Ruth, I truly am happy that you are here for this."

Ruth beams from ear to ear. "I am honoured to be apart of it."

Holly pokes her head into the room. She has Thomas with her and the bride's bouquets.

"Auntie Emma!" Thomas says, running to her and wrapping his arms around her legs.

"Thomas, don't wrinkle her dress," Ruth insists.

"It's all right Ruth," Emma shrugs. "This dress has endured much worse."

Holly beams and checks herself over in the mirror. Both Emma and Rose agreed on a light purple dress for their only bridesmaid, it wasn't quite lavender, but it was close enough, as to not set Ruth off any further. Thomas has a little flower pinned to his breast. Carl follows his wife into the room, dressed in a formal suit of his own. He grins widely at the entire group.

"You look so pretty! Mommy says you look like an angel!" the boy exclaims to his soon-to-be aunt. She smiles at him and returns the hug. She couldn't wait to watch this little boy grow up with her own sister, she hoped the "aunt" and nephew would be close and Thomas could teach Sybil all kinds of amazing things like how to ride a bike or catch grasshoppers.

"Thank you, Thomas, and you look very handsome today."

"My collar itches," he complains. Emma leans down to fix it for him and straightens his tie.

The four-year-old then goes and hugs Rose the exact same way.

"Auntie Rosie!" he exclaims, having the feeling of kinship to the Dawson couple already. "You look like a princess."

"Thank you, Thomas, I'm happy you are here today."

The small child beams happily and then runs back to his parents.

"Do you have the rings?" Ruth asks.

Carl pats the pocket of his suit jacket.

"Can I have the rings yet?" Thomas asks.

"Not yet," Holly says.

"I want them!" the boy insists.

"Not right now,"

"I want them!" he shouts a little louder.

Holly groans loudly. "This is what you're in for Rose," she warns.

The red-head just smiles runs a hand over her baby bump; although the road to parenthood would not be easy, she was very scared about it, what comforted her was that Jack would be with her every step of the way and this baby would grow up in a loving family. Then the group prepares for the next step. All the guests have now moved into the church and Father Bill joins the men at the altar.

Peter readjusts his tie and gives Jack a wide grin. His stomach was filled with butterflies too, but the happy kind. He was happy that he'd finally be able to declare his love for Emma in front of everyone. While their ceremony on the bow was more elegant in some ways, they were surrounded by strangers, who out of the kindness of their hearts attended this simple ceremony. But today, he was surrounded by his loved ones. His parents beam with pride from the front pew, his mother already sobbing into a handkerchief. His heart was going to burst with joy, finally being able to "officially" marry Emma, something the two had been longing for a long time. Every time he gazed upon her, it was just like the first time they'd met; his mind always thought of her and his soul did not feel complete unless she was there. He was eager to finally seal their union and to embrace the passion the two felt for one another.

Jack, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. He kept pulling at his collar, his head spinning, and his heart pounding. Never in a million years would he have thought his life would turn out like this. It was in the best way, but it was still surreal to think about. For a long time, Jack felt like he'd never find someone who could truly steal his heart away, to take his breath away, to proclaim his love for, to exchange vows with, to raise a family and spend the rest of his life with. But the moment he laid eyes on Rose, he could see it all. Their journey to this moment had certainly not been an easy one, jealous fiances and sinking ships aside, neither of them was perfect, but they had made each other better, changing themselves into new people. He was eternally grateful to whoever sent Rose to him, in fact, he was even thanking God for her. He swallows a few times and tries to keep his breath evened out, his heart threatened to break his ribs out of excitement and the anxiety of starting a new chapter in his life.

The group lines up in preparation for the walk down the aisle. Holly hands the brides their bouquets, lilies for Emma and white roses for Rose.

"Thank you for everything Holly," Rose says, happily.

"You're welcome Rose, today you become part of the family. Hope you're ready for the ride."

"I'm always ready," she grins.

Emma and Holly simply embrace for a long time until the organ music begins to play.

"I wish you all the luck in the world for marrying my brother," she jokes and Emma smiles widely.

"Your parents would be so proud of you," Holly adds.

Emma nods and readjusts her bouquet.

Ruth leans up and kisses her daughter on the cheek before going up to the front.

Holly had instructed her son several times that he was going to go first. He was to walk straight down the middle and go stand by Jack and Peter. All of them prayed that he would be on his best behaviour and simply do what he is told without question. Carl hands him a small velvet case containing both couple's rings. The boy is happy to have the box and then the little boy stands in front of his father, who would be escorting both his wife and the mother of one of the brides.

"Go, Thomas," his mother says.

The tiny four-year-old begins going down the aisle very quickly. Many of the guests smile and say soft awes of admiration at the young child. Thomas seems to know what he's doing until he goes to the wrong side of the altar and then finds his grandma and grandpa in the pews. They just hold the boy's hand and wait for his mother and father to join them and get him organized again.

Despite how fast Thomas went, Carl, Holly, and Ruth take their time down the aisle. All of them beam proudly, Ruth especially, trying to grab that single moment in the spotlight. She wishes her husband was going to walk Rose down the aisle, but sadly this would not happen. Once they reach the front, she gives a knowing smile to Jack and Peter before separating and sitting in the front pew.

The _Wedding March_ comes on and everyone in the pews stands.

"Ready?" Emma asks.

"Ready," Rose answers.

Emma holds her sister tightly and then begins the slow walk down the aisle in her dress. She feels all eyes on her. Many guests awe again at Sybil, who is very close to falling asleep by now. The older sister holds the little one tightly, fighting tears of both sadness and joy. It was time for the three of them to become a family. One that would last forever and one that truly loved each other. She blinks a few tears back and then suddenly the church scene becomes her first wedding on the ship, with the sunset in the background, the cold wind blowing against her skin and her beautiful fiancé at the end of the deck, smiling as widely as his face would allow. She herself is as happy as can be and looks absolutely radiant. Her mother's dress glistens in the afternoon sun and despite the sadness in her heart, she knew she was finally going to be with the love of her life. She stares at Peter, seeing his blue eyes and bright blonde hair glistening, combed to perfection. He was the man for her, not a doubt in her mind and he always had been.

Peter's heart is ramming against his chest, seeing his soon-to-be wife walking towards him. He always thought that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but seeing her walking towards him just proved his proclamation true. Her hair was perfectly framed in the crown of flowers and her blue eyes shone brightly. All the happiest thoughts rush through his mind and he thinks about the first time he saw her on that dance floor, the whole world seemed to stop and it appears to be happening again. Nothing else mattered except this angel in front of him, the women who could only rival the stars with her beauty.

They were going to be together, forever and always.

…

Rose swallows, watching her best friend go down the aisle with her baby sister. She could not believe how her life had turned out. It felt like a dream, a beautiful dream in which she never wanted to wake up. Holding her bouquet tightly, she takes slow steps forward.

All eyes were on her it seemed and she only smiled when she saw her groom at the end of her journey. She had never seen him look so handsome before, his blonde hair fixed to perfection, with a stray hair landing on his forehead. His bright blue eyes drink her in with every aspect of his own person. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest and she has to fight the tears in her eyes. She was marrying the man of dreams, the man who saved her, made her his muse and the light of his world. They were going to be together forever and nothing could ever stand in their way again.

Jack's heart dropped when he sees the vision of true beauty in front of him. Rose walks towards him. At that moment, all his anxiety was gone and he knew that he was the luckiest man to ever walk the face of the Earth. This angelic beauty smiles at him, her fierce green eyes laughing and beholding his handsome face too. Her red curls pulled back into the veil and family heirloom, only a few stray ones poked out, showing that she wasn't the "perfect" doll to be dressed and paraded around, she was a human being, a living angel to him. He couldn't believe how far they had come, how their love survived impossible odds and even created new life, that also seemed to glow under his fiancee's dress. He never thought that he'd actually prove Tommy wrong, he had gotten with the likes of her and angels didn't fly out of his "arse" for it to happen. The angel was floating towards him now. She was the woman he loved with every inch of his soul and never would he ever let go. They were going to fly together, fly into their future and a new adventure.

Once both brides reach the front, each groom extends their hands to their pure angels. The connection was made at that moment, all their hearts racing and their cheeks flushing a bright red. The music stops, letting the moment hang in the air. Emma decides to keep her sister in her arms the whole time, as they all become a family. Both women hand their bouquets to Holly, who stands with Carl and Thomas nearby.

"Please be seated," Father Bill says. "Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to join these men and these women, Emma Lillian Carson and Peter Alec Whitman. Rose Marie DeWitt Bukater and Jack Andrew Dawson in holy matrimony…"

The pastor goes on to give a poetic gospel about the beauty of love and how it must be celebrated at every opportunity. That Jesus' love was reflected in the bonds that these young people were going create today. Neither couple really hears it, as they are lost in each other's eyes.

"And now we will hear the vows of each individual being bound in matrimony today. The bride may begin."

Emma smiles, still holding Peter's hand, she turns to the crowd of people.

"Most of you don't know, but this is actually our second time getting married. Peter and I got married in God's eyes on April 14th, 1912. It wasn't very fancy, but it was big in terms of the hearts of all the people there. They managed to put everything together in a matter of hours and even managed to get me a few flowers from a nearby vase close to the first-class staircase." She pauses to allow the crowd to laugh a little bit. Murmurs of amusement drift through the chapel. "It may not seem like much, but to me it was perfect. I walked down the aisle with my sister in my arms, nervous, but also very reassured. I did feel sad knowing that my parents never lived to see this day, but I knew they were watching us from above, smiling and knowing that I was marrying the man of my dreams. I used to think that I didn't have a family anymore, but now I realize that everyone here is my family and love just as much as my parents did. Most of the people who heard our vows that night are now in heaven and I'm sure they'd want to hear them again, so Peter and I decided to recreate our vows to the best of our abilities."

Emma then clears throat, trying to fight tears. She turns back to her blonde-haired and blue-eyed groom. She smiles.

"When I was growing up, I'd always been told that there was no such thing as the perfect man, he was merely a fantasy created in the fairy tales my mother used to tell me. But that all changed when I met you. I knew that the minute you came up to me to ask to dance, that you were the perfect man for me. I felt something special the night we had our first kiss, it was a connection, something that could never be broken. True love. Your smile, your passion, your heart, drew me even closer and it's what makes me love you more and more each day. I could never have asked for more of a perfect man to talk to me, to comfort me...to love me the way you do and to live the rest of my life with. You and I have been through a lot and despite everything, we've been there for each other through the thick and the thin. You welcomed Sybil with open and loving arms, understanding that she means just as much to me as you do. You've been there for me in my darkest hour and managed to get me to smile again, see the light when all seemed dark, and I think that part might've been because of your hair." She and Peter chuckle to one another. "You gave me hope when I saw none. And now, standing here today, I can't help but feel that you are more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I know that life is not a fairy tale, and there will be dragons and villains to fight, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I've already found my happy ending and I'm ready for a new adventure with you. I love you Peter Whitman...forever and always."

Those at the alter hear a snuffle and several people, including Ruth are already in tears.

"The groom may now go," Father Bill nods.

Peter is so lost in his blushing bride's blue eyes for a moment, that she has to squeeze his hand to prompt him.

"It's kind of hard to trump that beautiful soliloquy, but I will do my best… Emma Carson, I knew from the first moment that I saw you that you would be my wife. Even though I didn't know you then, you were merely a beautiful swan in a sea of geese, I knew someway, somehow, we would be together and one day stand here, exchanging vows. When I went up to introduce myself, it felt like I was jumping off a cliff into the vast ocean. The entire world stopped and I was left floating in the sea. The sea of love and passion. It was never your fair looks or status that drew me to you, although they are just as lovely. It was your wonderful smile and infectious laughter that made me want to be with you every day for the rest of my life. The love you give to others is rare to find, rarer that some even some treasures in the world. The joy you create also has no price, your radiant and passionate lust for life could move the earth in the most amazing ways. You never let anything hurt you or others that you care about and nothing will ever get in your way if it means protecting what you love. But most of all, it is you, who you are that I love the most. We have been through a lot together, even being separated for a time, but I knew that you were searching for me, as I was for you. The road ahead will not always be easy but no matter what obstacles may befall us, I know that our love will always be there and flourish with the brightest light that even God himself can't create. I love you forever and ever."

The couples keep their hands clasped, Emma letting a tear fall from her eye and she squeezes her sister tightly.

Father Bill then nods towards Rose. She swallows the joy and clears her throat.

"Jack Dawson… a name I will never forget. When I first met you, I was scared, alone and didn't believe in love. I felt that there was no way out of the life I had, but you put your hand out and offered me a chance to change my mind. And you did, you made me see how wonderful life is and that it's worth every second. You gave me what I had always been missing and thought I would never find. You taught me how to fly and how to stand on my own two feet. I never thought that we would be here today, saying the words that I want to say. I love you. Your soul is the most beautiful part of you and the way you see people makes me all the more sure that you see us together. You saved me in every way a person can be saved and I will be forever grateful. You took a chance on a poor rich girl and set her free, yet you still keep my heart under your lock and key. I can't imagine myself with anyone but you and I will make each day I spend with you count. I cannot wait to start flying with you again."

She smiles widely and lets a small tear fall from her eyes.

The pastor then nods to his good friend.

"Rose DeWitt Bukater, I guess I finally learned how to say that…" The audience laughs a little. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about how lucky we are, how lucky I am to have found you. I may have saved you, but you gave so much more in return. You gave me fire and spirit, something you weren't afraid to show. You gave me the love I was lacking for a long time and gave me the wings I needed to soar with you. No one can rival your beauty, on the inside and out. I may be able to see people, but you are the most beautiful muse I will ever behold. I used to think that it was pure luck of the cards, a chance encounter that brought me to you, but I know now that it was written in the stars, and they know that I want to share every day of the rest of our lives with you. No matter where life takes us, I know we were meant to be together and I can't wait to start a new adventure with you."

The couples smile at one another. Several women in the pews are crying, including Ruth DeWitt Bukater, her happiness spilling over onto her face. She wanted her daughter to be happy and here was the moment when her wish would come true.

"Now let us have the rings,"

Holly prompts her son to go stand by the pastor. Father Bill takes the box from the young boy and sends him back to his mother.

He hands the first silver band to Jack and tells him what to say.

"With this ring, I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands."

Then he slowly slides the silver token of love on Rose's finger. A chill runs up her spine.

Rose takes the next band from the box.

"With this ring, I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands."

She then slides the symbol of love onto his finger. Jack beams, looking into his bride's eyes.

Peter is next, taking the silver ring, holding his bride's only free hand.

"With this ring, I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands."

He slides the circle of love onto her finger.

With difficulty, Emma takes the final band. She kisses Sybil's head.

"With this ring, I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, and hands."

She then slides the sign of love onto his finger.

"Do you Peter Whitman, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

"I do." He says smiling.

"And do you, Emma Carson, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

"I do," she says happily.

"Do you Jack Dawson, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

"I do," he says without hesitation.

"And do you Rose DeWitt Bukater, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, till death do you part?"

"I do!" she says with her whole heart.

"By the power vested in me and by the holy hand of God, I now pronounce thee man and wife." Father Bill says.

The two couples are about to kiss, hearts exploding in joy when the back doors of the church open loudly. Emma looks to see two uniformed officers walking straight up the aisle. All the patrons look on in confusion and there is murmuring as the officers get closer.

"What's going on?" Emma asks in confusion, this was supposed to be a moment of celebration and instead, it has suddenly turned into a courtroom drama. "Can we help you?"

"Police ma' me," one of the officers says. "We have a warrant for the arrest of a Jack Dawson,"

One of the officers begins to cuff Jack, Rose hangs onto his arm the entire time.

"What? Why?" he asks. His mind is completely perplexed as he feels the cold metal go around his wrists. He'd hoped to never have to feel that again, especially since the last time that it happened, he was trapped in a sinking ship. He's very afraid so suddenly, the happiness and joy gone, replaced by confusion and growing anger. Rose was trying to keep a grip on Jack the entire time.

"Officer, what are the charges?" Emma asks.

"Attempted murder, theft, abduction of a child and rape causing pregnancy,"

"WHAT?!" Rose practically screams. She tries to get between the officer and Jack.

"Rose don't," Peter says. He reaches over to keep her from harming the officer, but internally he wishes he had the guts to do what she doing. His mind is spinning, unable to comprehend what the officer just said. Jack, his best friend, had done none of these things. He continues to hold Emma's hand tightly as the would-be newlyweds try to sort out the situation.

"This can't be happening..." Rose is practically sobbing. "Please don't…"

"Ma' me please don't interfere," an officer insists

"But he's my husband…" Rose says. Her eyes are filling with tears, smearing her makeup completely. She can't believe this is happening, her entire world has just come crashing down on her. The happiest moment of her life has just become a waking nightmare. All she keeps thinking about is Jack and how she needs to be with him, he's her everything and now, that's being snatched away from her.

"I'm sorry ma' me, but we need to take him."

"NO!" Rose shouts in grief. She doesn't care if she's making a fool of herself, she hadn't fought for Jack the first time he'd been arrested, so she will damn now try this time.

"Jack, don't say anything until we get there," Emma says, trying to clear her own head. Her law training comes back into gear, knowing how to increase her friend's chances of going free faster. "We'll meet you at the station."

"Jack please," Rose pleads.

The entire room is now in an uproar of confusion as Jack is led away in handcuffs. He cannot believe what has just happened. Rose is sobbing the entire way, following the group as fast as her heels and dress can take her.

Emma turns to Peter in a panic, still trying to process everything. They watch as both Rose and Jack disappear through the doors of the church.

"We have to hurry, he needs us as lawyers," Peter states.

"Let's get Rose and the car, and head to the station." His still fiancée agrees. Emma hands Sybil to Ruth, as the two go in pursuit, up the aisle, but not in wedded bliss.

They go outside and watch as the police wagon pulls away from in front of the church, but with no sign of the other bride. They expected her to be standing in the street, but she's gone.

"Rose?" Peter calls.

"Rose?" Emma shouts.

The two begin searching around the church, trying to find their friend. The guests are talking amongst themselves in great confusion, some scattering to find the missing bride.

Emma and Peter meet at the back of the church, where they find a ripped veil and the family comb on the ground of the parking lot.

 _Finally, I get to write this. This dramatic scene has been a long time coming. I wrote it before I even knew what was going to happen. I hope you like it. Please read and review._


	72. Chapter 71: All Over Again

Chapter 71: All Over Again

"Rose?! ROSE, WHERE ARE YOU?!" Emma calls, walking up and down the street where the church is, in her wedding dress and veil, trying to find her friend. Several pedestrians stare at her in confusion, assuming that she's either a runaway bride or some escaped mental patient acting out some bizarre fantasy.

"Emma, come on," Peter says, grabbing her arm. "We have to bail Jack out of jail."

"I know, but where is Rose?" the girl cries, anxiously. She unbelievably confused and scared, not just for Jack, but for her best friend, who has seemingly vanished from the church parking lot.

"She might already be there," her still fiancé suggests. "She might've hailed a cab to follow the police."

"She wouldn't have taken out the heirloom and thrown it on the ground. She knows how much it means to me," she protests. The comb was now in Peter's pocket, having received more additional scratches from being dropped on the ground.

"She's pregnant and distraught, she probably wasn't thinking clearly. Now let's go and get her husband out of jail."

"Okay," the young girl sighs heavily. Something is definitely not right, she can feel it in her bones. Her stomach twists violently thinking about what happened last night.

Much like her nightmares on the _Titanic_ , foretelling disaster, it seems her dreams had tried to warn her about something once again. She hadn't really thought about it until now, chalking up the nerves and stress of the wedding.

As she'd slept in a separate room from Peter the night before their wedding, as per tradition, Emma has spent the late evening looking at family portraits, always coming back to her parents' own wedding photo. They looked very serious, as taking such picture took much longer than it did now, but Emma couldn't pull herself away from how beautiful her mother looked, so elegant in such a simple dress, which she'd made herself. She stood poised like a real lady of class, a queen, even though she, herself, often looked down at such people and saw them as merely hollow statues. Her father was dressed in his best business suit, a hat cropped under one arm, his eyes staring into the distance, as he pondered their future together. Even though their own ceremony was quite simple, it was a union meant to last a lifetime, even though both their lives did not last as long as anticipated. Emma found herself crying just a little bit, she kept the framed photo next to her nightstand, hoping that they were looking down at their daughter with pride and a lot of love. Their little girl was finally marrying the man of her dreams and starting anew, keeping their memory alive, but moving forward. She kissed the photograph once and whispered, "I love you," to it before turning in for the night.

Her dreams, however, were anything but peaceful. The fantasy began with her and Rose walking down the aisle, just like it had done before, their soon to be husbands, standing at the altar, waiting. Despite how happy she felt, Emma felt as if the two were walking, but the aisle just kept getting longer and longer, like they were never going to reach their true loves. The dreamer then decides to pick up speed, reaching out to grab her friend's hand, only to feel cold and rough skin. She turns to see a shadowy man, whom she was holding hands with. She could see Rose being held by several other shadows, their hands over her mouth so she couldn't scream and one of them had a knife to her neck.

"Let her go!" Emma screamed, trying to free her hand from the sinister figure's.

However, the dark hand clamped around her wrist, squeezing so hard it would block her circulation. The young bride began to fight, using what strength she had to escape her aggressor. She punches and kicks the man, and even tries biting, but nothing works. It does not phase this seemingly inhuman person. The man's face was hidden under a wide brimmed cap and she could see his white teeth underneath them. She tries screaming out for help, but the pews are empty. She turns to see where their fiancés are, but they too are being grabbed by shadow people. Tears are now burning her eyes, the shadow man begins to pull her away from her happily ever after and towards the exit, which is now nothing but a dark void. Emma fights with every fiber of her being to escape, shouting for help that was not coming. The mysterious figure then grabs her around the chest to get her out the door faster, she continues to holler for help, but there's nothing but an empty, dark church, no one to save her. She lets out one final scream before everything goes black and she hears.

"Happy wedding day… I'll see you soon."

She woke up in a cold sweat and shivering. Emma blinked several times before reaching to light her lamp. Her nightgown was sticking to her and the sheets were a mangled mess. She put her hands on her face and tried to calm herself. Sure, she still had the occasional sinking ship dream, likely based on the traumatic event, but this was something new entirely. Her breath was heavy and her mind was racing, trying to find meaning. Eventually, she went to the bathroom to get a drink of water and then came back, trying to settle herself down again. She looked at the photograph of her parents on the stand.

"What is happening to me Momma?" she'd asked. "What does it mean Papa?"

She longed for an answer. As she lay down again and shut the light off, she assumed that this was nothing more than pre-wedding jitters.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

…

"I'm going to give you one more chance Dawson," the officer warns in a very dark voice.

Jack sits at a table in an interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. He's still dressed in his wedding suit and stares at the police men around him like they've completely lost their minds. Additionally, these were all his colleagues, people he saw every day, and now they were treating him like a criminal.

His head is spinning as he tries to comprehend what has happened in the past hour. One minute, he's about to marry Rose, the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, and the next he's being handcuffed and carted off in a police wagon. He cannot understand what they want from him, they are accusing him of various things, so numerous he can't keep them all straight. They are calling him filth, and "dirty liar," he wants to open his mouth to protest and remembers what Emma had told him, not to say anything until she and Peter arrived.

His blue eyes make contact with the other man but then looks down.

"You really think the silent treatment is going to help you here?" the gruff man snarls.

Jack bites his lip but remains quiet.

"Fine, but we are booking you. Maybe a night in the slammer will get you talking."

Jack clenches his fists but remains passive until the officer leaves. Once he's alone he lets out a sigh of great relief. He then tries to process what has happened to him. He stares at the silver cuffs around his wrists and he has a flashback to the last time he'd been arrested. it was happening again, being arrested for something he did not do. He'd been locked in the lower decks of the ship, destined to drown had it not been for Rose. For awhile, he thought she'd abandoned him, avoiding his eyes as he was dragged away, proclaiming his innocence about the diamond and the attack on Peter, but the minute she called out his name, he knew this wasn't true. She believed him and loved him enough to risk her own life to save him. And yet, here he was, locked up with no place to go. He thinks about what crime he could've possibly committed, but there was nothing, nothing at all. Sure he'd stolen a guy's fiancée, but that wasn't a crime… He may have done a few questionable things on the _Titanic_ , like property damage and attacking another man, but that was to protect Rose and it was imperative to their survival that night.

The door opens again and familiar face locks eyes with him.

"Joel," Jack breathes.

"Hi Jack," he says in a hushed voice.

"You have to help me, Joel. I didn't do whatever they're accusing me of. You have to get me out of here man."

"I can't Jack… I'm sorry," the officer sighs heavily, not truly believing that he was going to have to lock his co-worker up.

"You have to tell them I'm innocent."

"I can't."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't have any authority here. I'm just here to bring you to lock up…"

Joel's brown eyes look into Jack's blue ones, both men can see the confusion and hurt in one another's. Jack isn't sure what to believe at the moment, as his co-worker and pretty well his friend, comes to the table, removes one of the handcuffs, and uses the other to cuff Jack's hands behind him.

"Please don't struggle, Jack, it won't make things any better."

A large lump has formed in his throat as Jack is lead out of the interrogation room and down towards one of the holding cells. He passes places that he can remember from the days of working here, but then he's in another area of the building, some place very unfamiliar.

He's forced down a long hallway, past various cells, some empty and some full. His heart pounds in his chest. He's taken to a cell with merely a bench and tiny bed, surrounded by bars on three sides. Joel unlocks him and then as gently as he can, pushes Jack inside. The officer then locks the cell.

"I'm sorry Jack, I really am," Joel says quietly before turning to leave.

The blonde man watches, gripping the bars with all his might, in anger and confusion.

…

"What authority do you have to deny him bail?!" Emma shouts angrily at the chief of police. Still, in their wedding attire, Peter and his bride stand in the chief's office, trying to get their friend out.

"We have reason to believe that he is a danger to society," the chief officer says, not even making eye contact with the woman, who is ready to turn the desk over to attack him

"These charges have no evidence to support them!" the girl protests.

"I just do what the courts tell me to do. There is much evidence to support them."

Emma swallows a large lump in her throat, trying to keep her anger in check. She remembers her father's words about never being emotional in court, but this is her friend in peril and with Rose MIA, they needed to speed this up.

"Let me see this evidence," she says through gritted teeth.

The police officer then hands the folder to Peter, instead of the one who asked for it.

"We received an anonymous phone call providing us with the charges that Mr. Dawson had been given while on the Titanic and that he was never properly prosecuted for them. They also added the additional charge of rape causing pregnancy and child abduction."

Emma goes red in the face and grinds her teeth together. She thinks about the confrontation on the bow, how helpless she felt and how angry she was that no one would listen to her. It was happening all over again here. "It was all a set-up, I know that because I was a witness to it if you're going to arrest anyone arrest Cal…"

"Ma'me, maybe you should wait outside. Please, let the proper lawyer discuss this" the officer says dismissively.

The girl now turns into a bridezilla of a new variety, she cannot hold it in any longer. She knows that because of her gender, she's being seen as inferior, once again.

"I am the proper lawyer. I am sole proprietor and owner of the Carson law firm. Any case this firm takes on is under my authority and my authority alone. Peter Whitman is my right-hand man, he and work as partners, _**equals**_ …" She lets out an angered breath with that last word. "Anything you say to him will be said to me as well, either that or we will see you in court. I know you've heard of my firm Chief Brody, you don't want to be the defendant in that court."

"Are you threatening an officer of the law?"

"Threatening with legal action yes, nothing else." She adds sternly, doing her best to remain at least a little composed. "Now we _**both**_ want to see our client now. We are his attorneys and need to speak to him."

The chief stares into the blue eyes of this feisty bride, he does not and will not take authority from a woman, but he did know the reputation of the girl's father's law firm. He didn't want to end up in court unless it was for a legitimate reason.

"Very well, you both may see him in lock up, he's in Block C."

…

Jack paces back and forth in his cell, his jacket, and corsage laying on the bed next to him. He hears the doors at the end of the hall open. He looks, expecting it to be another officer, but instead, he sees a woman in a white dress and a man in a black suit coming towards him.

"Jack!" Emma cries out.

"Emma!"

She reaches the cell first and hugs her friend through the bars. Peter follows suit. All happy to be reunited once again.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm fine, where's Rose? Is she, all right?"

Both Emma and Peter's eyes go wide in confusion and fear, realizing that the pregnant friend was missing. The woman who wanted to be safe and free was now in danger and likely trapped…

 _What do you think happened to Rose? Please read and review._


	73. Chapter 72: Crime and Time

Chapter 72: Crime and Time

"Y-You mean she's not here?!" Emma gaps.

Jack is completely astonished as he looks at his friends through the bars of his cell. He has tears forming in his bright blue eyes. His knuckles turn white as he grasps the bars.

"Why would she be here? I wouldn't want my pregnant wife to be near this place with proper security. You mean to tell me she's not with you."

"She ran off after you were arrested a-and we can't find her…"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIND HER?!"

"She vanished in the church parking lot," Peter explains, running a hand through his styled blonde hair. "All we found was her veil and Emma's comb. We thought she might've called a taxi to get here."

Jack begins to shake, not just in anger but in fear. The bars practically rattle in his tightened grasp. "She… She's not here and she hasn't been here for the past few hours! Not that I would know, I was locked in an interrogation room and here for all of it."

Everyone's hearts into their stomachs, they feel dread flow through them like it was coursing through their veins.

"We have to get you out of here," Emma says, trying for the moment to ignore the much larger problem that hovers over them.

"YOU CAN'T WORRY ABOUT ME, YOU HAVE TO FIND ROSE, SHE'S CARRYING OUR BABY FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Peter chews on his lip for a long time while Emma bites at her manicured nails. She then turns to her would-be husband. All are shaking in worry and terror. Emma knows that deep down that something is very wrong, her vision has likely come true and Rose is in grave danger. "You find out how to bail Jack out and convince the chief otherwise. I'm going to call home to see if she's there or if she's still at the church. She might be with Molly, trying to get here…"

A shadow of doubt and dread hangs over them as one of the couple splits up to do their assigned duties.

…

"Holly is Rose there?" Emma chokes out when the woman who was supposed to be her sister and law answers their house phone. She stands in a quieter corner of the station, making as many phone calls as she possibly can, in search of her best friend.

"No, we thought she was with you…"

Emma's stomach drops. She can hear the concerned conversations going on in the background and little Thomas crying in confusion and despair.

"Who is at the house right now?"

"My parents, Ruth, Molly Brown, Mr. Jamieson and his family, Wendy, Tommy and a few other people."

"Is Sybil with you?"

"Carl just put her down for a nap, she woke up not long after you left in the car and became upset. I think she misses you and knew something was wrong."

"And you're sure Rose isn't there?"

"We're positive. Carl and Mr. Jamieson are rallying up the neighbours to begin looking for her."

"T-The sooner the better," the young female lawyer says.

"How is Jack doing?"

"He's worried about Rose when he should be worried about himself too."

"What is he accused of?"

"Attempted murder, rape causing pregnancy, child abduction, and assault."

"Wha…How What How?" Holly stammers. "Who would think such a thing?"

"I don't know. But the chief is saying that he needs to pay for the crimes that occurred on the _Titanic_."

"But you said he didn't commit those crimes."

"He didn't it was Ca…" Emma stops short. She realizes who sent the tip. "That bastard!"

"WHO?"

"I need to talk to the chief. Call the station if you find Rose…"

"But…"

Emma hangs up and rushes through the busy station, trying to get to the chief's office. She barges in without knocking.

"What… Miss Carson…"

"I know who turned Jack in."

"How could you know, it was anonymous."

"Because all the crimes that Jack Dawson is accused of were committed by someone else."

"And who might that be?"

"Caledon Hockley."

The officer stares at her in confusion.

"Who?"

"A pompous bastard of a man who would do anything to get rid of Jack and get his former fiancée back."

"And why might that be?"

"Caledon Hockley."

"The steel tycoon."

"The only one there is."

"But why would this man want to turn in Jack Dawson."

Emma spends the next half-hour explaining what happened on the ill-fated ship, the forbidden love, the abduction, the violent confrontation, the daring rescues and the dark ocean that almost took all of them.

"That is quite the story. It sounds like a tale from a romantic novel or an expensive and epic moving picture show."

"It's the truth."

"And where is this Mr. Hockley now?"

"How the heck should I know? I established a restraining order against him for me and my family."

"Do you honestly believe that Caledon Hockley, a highly respected business man, and wealthy business tycoon would sink so low as to turn an innocent man into the police, on his wedding day no less? And do you think he would risk violating the order you filed to do so?"

"Did you not hear the story? He'd do anything to come out on top. He kidnapped my baby sister!"

"But there is no evidence to back up your claims. Like you said before, most of the witnesses went down with the ship."

"Oh, there is a lot of evidence just you wait."

"Yes, I will wait, in court."

Emma opens her mouth to speak, but the chief cuts her off. "I won't have any more of this Miss Carson. Bring it up with a legitimate and respected lawyer. If you want to accuse Mr. Hockley of such crimes, you can do it on your own time, but as of this moment, you should be figuring out how to defend your client in front of a federal judge… Until then, Mr. Dawson will remain where he is until a judge posts his bail."

Emma's face goes completely red and it takes all her strength not to slap this man across the face or hit something else. Here she was, trying to get one friend out of jail, while the other is missing and likely in even more trouble. She bites her lip hard enough to bleed as she backs away and exits the office. Her anger is boiling inside of her. She'd trying to remain composed, but it's becoming more and more difficult. She definitely did not have her father's professional self-control, especially when handling cases that she was passionate about. She wished beyond all measure that her father was here right now, to help her because she needed it more than ever.

She goes across the station, still in her wedding dress. She goes back to the block of cells where Jack is being held. She can feel tears filling her eyes as she looks towards her fiancé and her dear friend. Both men are talking, Peter trying to get an official statement from Jack. When both men see her, they stand. They try to smile for her.

"Is she at home?" Jack asks.

Emma shakes her head. "Carl and the other men are looking around the neighbourhood and by the church."

"What about getting Jack out?" Peter asks.

"We have to take the request for bail before a federal judge, until then…" she swallows hard. "Jack has to stay in here."

"WHAT?!" Jack hollers. The young artist punches the bars of his cell, likely cracking a few knuckles as he does so. Tears flow down his face and he paces even faster from one end of this prison to the other. He can't stay in here, not with Rose missing. Had she run away because she was so distressed? Has she been arrested herself and being held elsewhere? Had she been grabbed by some maniac?

His mind races, thinking of all the possible outcomes, his hands shake in rage and confusion, his thoughts thinking about Rose's helpless face, the pain she might be in, the danger to her life… and the life of their child.

Eventually, he wears himself up to sit down, putting his face in his hands. Peter has a strong arm around Emma as the two sit and watch him, even though the blonde man is breaking up inside too. He tried to remain poised for Emma's sake. The two lawyers are so torn about what to do, not really sure which of their friends was in more trouble.

Suddenly, Emma snaps into action, remembering what she'd figured out earlier.

"We may not be able to get you out yet, but I do know who turned you in."

"I think I know too," Jack says, looking up at his friends. "When I heard what I was accused of, I knew I didn't do those things, but someone else did. Someone who has a score to settle with me."

"Someone who hates us with a passion and would do anything to ruin your life," Peter adds.

"Someone who turned into a monster and wants you out of the way so he can get Rose back."

They don't even have to say it out, they are all thinking it.

Two words, two names that at this moment can mean pure evil.

 _Caledon Hockley_.

Sorry if this chapter is mediocre at best. It's mostly filler at this point. Please read and review


	74. Chapter 73: Doing Business

Chapter 73: Doing Business

There's a knock at his office door. The sun is setting in the hallway behind the visitor to Caledon's office, casting long shadows along the walls and over the portraits of all the Hockley ancestors.

"Master Hockley?" his manservant says.

"What is it Riptide?"

"I have a telegram for you sir, from the men you employed to do that… errand from you."

"Wonderful, please bring it in."

Riptide enters the steel tycoon's officer with the slip of paper on a small tray. Cal sits behind his desk, with his hand on his chin. His face is only half-illuminated by lamp light, but any witness could see that he was smiling. As his manservant approaches, he reaches out and takes the slip of paper. He reads it carefully and his smile becomes wider.

 _C, STOP_

 _NOT MUCH TIME TO TALK STOP. HAVE THE GIRL IN TRUNK. QUITE FEISTY, I COMMEND YOUR CHOICE IN WOMEN STOP_

 _MEET BEHIND BAR, ACHILLES AT 10 PM STOP_

 _WILL MAKE EXCHANGE STOP. MAKE SURE YOU HAVE THE MONEY. STOP_

 _M STOP_

Cal can barely contain his joy. The gang has succeeded in grabbing his fiancée, everything had gone according to plan. He then brings out his cheque book and writes the exact sum that the leader requested.

"Oh, they certainly have earned it. Rose does tend to put up a fight."

Riptide merely nods, glad to see that his employer was in good spirits, despite the terrible deed that he has done. He was relieved that all his trailing had paid off and now hopefully, things could go back to normal for everyone.

"Bring the car around Riptide, is the basement ready for her arrival?"

"It is sir,"

"Good because the last thing we need is someone suspecting what we _**might've**_ done…" the steel tycoon chuckles. He stands up from the desk with his briefcase, grabs his coat and hat by the door of his office before exiting.

"Things are looking up Riptide, things are looking up."

…

"Are we sure we can trust this guy boss?" one of the gang members asks as they entire group stands in the back alleyway behind a bar called _**Achilles.**_ All of them are smoking large cigars, their hats pulled over their face. They are waiting in the shadows with the car parked near the rear. The sounds of bar night life drift out the open back door. This bar was on the seedier side of town, where all the Mafia gangs and other morally questionable big wigs toasted their victories or did business together. Although, more often than not, it usually ended up with guns being drawn and the occasional fight breaking out.

The leader of the group, simply known as M, the underboss of the family chuckles quietly at his brother's doubt.

"We can't, but he'd better have that money, or we can give him a shakedown. After all, this was all his doin'. We are just the actors. If he don't hand over the money, we can take care of this girl ourselves. She might be a good goomah; red hair can sell for a pretty penny these days. But we may have to wait until she pops the kid out."

"He said nothing about her being with baby, nor that she was a biter," the same member says, rubbing a spot on his arm which revealed a bite mark. "It made her harder to get under and lift."

"You could use the exercise Tony," another gang member chuckles. "Mama has been makin' too many cannoli for you."

Several of the men chuckle. The one known as Tony turns red and attempt to swing at his tormentors, but one grabs him and socks him in the jaw. When Tony falls to the ground, the men gather around and begin beating the snot out of him.

"That's enough!" M orders, after several minutes. He reaches over and pulls Tony to his feet.

"Keep your head high Tony, now go get cleaned up. Anne Marie in the back can take care of you…"

The victim nods, wiping the blood from his likely broken nose and stumbles inside the bar.

"He's got a mouth on him," one of the others mutters. "He better not be no rat."

"He's new to the business," M says, lighting up another cigar. "He's mostly a cugine right now. If he knows what's good for him, he'll learn to keep that rage in check."

The sound of an engine roaring down the street catches the group's attention. There aren't any sirens, so it isn't the cops coming to get them. It's not like the fuzz came down to this neck of town anyways.

"Now you let me do the talkin' and the rest of you will get a cut of the Gs. Understand."

The shadowed men nod to one another.

"Good now go get yourselves a drink. I'll call you when we need to move the girl."

One by one the gang members disappear through the back door, going to get a good drink as a reward for a hard day's work.

M continues to stand next to the car, near the trunk, until a man in a fancy coat and his own hat approaches.

"Quite shady down this way, but it does make sense after all," Cal murmurs.

"You got the money?" M asks, getting straight down to business.

Cal reaches into his coat pocket and removes the cheque. "I hope it is up to your desired standards."

The man looks over the piece of paper to make sure he wasn't pulling a fast one. He then pockets the cheque. "Pleasure doing business with you chief," M says.

"Before we part, I can be assured that there is no way that this can be traced back to me?"

M's eyes narrow. "We did what you asked, we kept your hands clean. As long as you keep ours the same and you don't rat, you're good. If not…" M collars Cal so that they are eye to eye. "We have ways of makin' you pay…"

Cal swallows. "U-Understood."

M releases the steel tycoon. "Your distraction by callin' the fuzz worked out perfectly. The dame was easy once she was out in the open. A couple of my boys were in the back, watchin' they never even got to kiss."

"Excellent," Cal smiles, happy that Rose was still unmarried to the gutter rat. And now that he was behind bars, he was free to have the redhead as long as he wanted.

"She wasn't too happy to see him be taken away, there were two others getting' married and they weren't too pleased."

"They aren't a concern for you," Cal said firmly. "And you're sure no one saw."

"My boys are professional!" M snaps, hating that the fancy pants man had so little faith in them. "Once the coppers drove off, they snuck around. One of them had some chemicals to knock her out, but she did put up a fight. She bit one of them."

"She can be like that…"

"We weren't too happy with the scratches they got, maybe a little extra dough would keep them from comin' after you."

Cal eyes M angrily and sighs. He pulls out his wallet and forks over another few bills.

"That's good now," M mutters, pocketing the money.

"Can I see her?" Cal asks.

"Before you do, there is somethin' you should know about the dame."

"What's that?"

M goes to the trunk and lifts it open with one swift motion. Cal gasps when he sees what the mobster is talking about.

"She's a lot heavier than you thought."

Rose lays unconscious in the trunk of the car. Her hands and feet are bound tightly by rope and there is a thick gag over her mouth. There is also a blindfold over her eyes so she couldn't identify her attackers. She's still in her wedding dress, which was now wrinkled from being stuffed into the trunk, but even a drunk man could see the definitive curve of the woman's stomach. She was completely unconscious as the gang members had forced a rag against her face, having chemicals that knocked her out cold once she stopped struggling.

Cal's blood is boiling. He had forgotten that Dawson had knocked his fiancée up, on the ship no less! He realized that his situation was much bigger now because, in a few months, there would be a new problem. One that could not be dealt with as easily. He thought about killing it now, but that might harm Rose. He shakes the thought from his mind, deciding to worry about it later.

"You didn't tell me she was carrying spawn," M grunts.

"It slipped my mind,"

"Did it now?" the mobster hisses. He reaches into his coat to grab his pistol. "Made the job a lot harder. We may kill, but we don't harm women or children, especially unborn ones. Your task was pushing the code we hold. Plus, a couple of my boys almost threw their backs out." He clicks the hammer once, loudly so Cal can hear.

Cal swallows again and wipes his brow. He knew he didn't want to piss off the man even more than before. Despite being honest, he knew that men like this don't care about honesty, only money.

"Y-Yes, how about I give you a bonus for having to l-lift her and corrupting your moral code…" Which they likely had none.

"How much of a bonus?"

"Another hundred."

"Make it two."

"Two!" Cal turns but stops short when he looks at the mafia's weapon. He has it out, not pointed at the tycoon, but it hovers low to the ground. It could easily be lifted to shoot him dead.

"Alright, two hundred."

"Write the cheque now, on the hood," M insists.

Cal just nods before removing his cheque book again. M watches with heavy set eyes, making sure the billionaire doesn't pull any funny business.

"There," Cal says, handing the cheque over.

"Pleasure then Mr. Hockley."

"C-Can we just have a few of your men help Riptide move her into the trunk of our car?"

M blows out a ring of smoke before answering, knowing that he has this first-class ass under his thumb. "Sure."

He then whistles a distinct tune before a couple of large men exit, no doubt they are the muscle of the group. Riptide comes to join his master and the men carefully lift the pregnant woman out of the trunk. Her head lolls a little bit, but she still doesn't stir. Cal watches as the men put the red-head in the trunk, then his manservant slams the lid down.

"Thank you for your services," Cal says, knowing he was probably going to have to shell out more money for having some of the gang move Rose. He hands the leader twenty extra dollars. "You won't hear from me again."

"Hope not," M says. "We don't usually do jobs like this. Hope she's worth it Mr. Hockley."

"Good night to you," Cal says, before walking towards his car. Once Riptide starts up the vehicle, the two men pull out onto the dark street until the headlights disappear into the dark.

One of the gang members looks at M for a moment. "You really think he won't rat on us."

"I'm positive."

"He ain't right in the head," another comments. "Forcing us to grab a woman like this."

"No, he ain't, but it doesn't matter anymore. He won't squeal as long as he knows where we are."

"Do you think he'll get caught?"

"With the way you described the other two and their legal talk, not a doubt in my mind."

 _A/N: Sorry if the dialogue sounds really stereotypical, i just wanted to emulate the Mafia dialect of the time._


	75. Chapter 74: Broken but Not Shattered

Chapter 74: Broken but Not Shattered

Emma and Peter trudge wearily up the path of their home, the lights still ablaze inside. Both are worn out and very exhausted. Peter has removed his tie from around his neck, his shirt has several buttons open to cool down his chest and his corsage is drooping and upside down. Emma has removed her heels and walks barefoot across the cool concrete. She looks down at her mother's dress. It's now stained and wrinkled; the beads, diamonds, and flowers she'd embroidered into it are askew or have lost their shine. She has her veil in her hand, her hair is a complete mess and she wipes away another layer of makeup. Neither can believe what they've been through in the past couple of hours. The one day that was supposed to be a dream come true for all of them instantly turned into a complete nightmare with Jack in jail and Rose missing.

Emma wipes a few tears from her eyes and bites her lip. Once they get to the front door, she collapses on the stoop of their home and weeps very hard into her hands. Pete is instantly at her side, rubbing his hand up her back and then pulling her into his arms. He does his best not to cry himself, he knew that both had the weight of the world on their shoulders. This shouldn't be happening, they should be dancing the night away at the local community hall after cutting their homemade wedding cake and then returning home for a proper wedding night. Everything they'd been through; the death of her parents, the kidnapping, the sinking of the ship, the separation, the reunion, and the planning, was supposed to be rewarded on this one day where everything was perfect and beautiful.

"It's okay…" Peter says very quietly.

"No, it's not okay…" she weeps, clinging to his shirt tightly in distress. "Why does everything happen to us? Why does God seem to hate us so much? Why can't we have that one day where we feel normal?"

"I… don't really know…" he answers honestly. "Maybe because we're not normal."

Emma sniffles, knowing that this was true. Not one part of their lives was considered normal and yet... "Well, I wish this one day that we were."

"I know…" he says. His heart is breaking for her, he kisses the top of her head gently and puts his chin over her head. He knows that he must be the strong one, but he too is almost at the end of his rope too, close to a similar breakdown. Usually, Emma is stronger than him, not afraid to stand up for what is right and willing to do anything to protect her loved ones, but now, she was a vulnerable mess. He too is frustrated and very weak in spirit, he just wants that happily ever after with the woman he loves and he wants it for their friends too. And yet… life… their lives especially never went as planned.

The couple sits out on the porch for a long time, just holding each other, both trying to be strong, but slowly breaking inside. The cool autumn wind blows around them, lifting the folds of Emma's wedding dress and rustling Peter's hair. They keep each other warm, wanting this entire day to be erased from their memory, to reset the day and have the happiness they all deserved.

They hear noises behind them and Holly opens the door, still in her bridesmaid dress. The couple can see that she too has been crying, she no longer looks like a delicate flower, in a flowing gown, but a worried mother and a concerned sister to both of them.

She doesn't say anything to the two of them for a long time, they just stare at one another, looking at the tear stains on their cheeks, the women with their makeup smudged as well.

"You'd better come inside, it's getting really cold…" she says quietly.

Without any more words spoken, Emma and Peter stand up and go into their home.

They go into the living room to see a large group of people gathered around the coffee table and fireplace, which has a small fire emitting a warm glow. It would be a comfortable scene, right out of a painting or storybook if it wasn't for the feeling of dread and worry hanging over everyone.

Molly Brown sits on the corner of the room in a rocking chair and she has young Thomas sleeping in her arms. Obviously, the instinct of mothering had not left the heiress as the four-year-old clings to the woman's fur shawl like it's a teddy bear and she doesn't seem to mind in the least. She rocks back and forth in a slow motion to keep the young one content and asleep. Nearby is Wendy and Tommy, both holding hands and sitting on the couch, the look of apprehension on their faces. Peter's parents immediately get up and embrace the couple tightly. They offer words of comfort and keep two in their arms for a long time. Just behind everyone in the kitchen, Mr. Jamieson sits with a cup of coffee in his hands, his daughters Daisy and Mildred sitting across from him, their lovely church hats placed on the table. Mrs. Jamieson quietly mills about the kitchen, distracting herself and making tea for all their guests. Carl sits in Emma's father's old chair, he sips a glass of what appears to be rum and stares at the floor for what seems like ages. Halley, Holly's twin sister sits with her fiancé on the staircase leading upstairs, looking confused about everything that has occurred since they've been down in Texas. Finally, Mr. Calvert sits next to Ruth on an adjacent couch, Rose's mother cradling young Sybil. Ruth appears to have also been crying and the lines on her brow indicate worry of the worst kind. Sybil sleeps contently, despite the unfamiliar arms in which she lay. Emma gazes over at her infant sister, a few more tears slipping from her eyes. She goes over to Ruth and without much more than a word, she takes her sister into her arms. She then proceeds to go upstairs to the nursery to put her down for the night.

Emma can barely contain the pain anymore and sniffles a few times as she walks up the stairs in a slow rhythmic motion. She can feel her sister's soft breathing against her shoulder, wondering what the little one might be dreaming about. She envied Sybil, being able to be completely oblivious and naïve to everything happening around her, to be able to sleep in peace without a million things filling her mind. She takes Sybil into her room and does not turn on the light for fear of disturbing her sister. She only has the light of the moon to guide her to the changing table. Emma removes Sybil's tiny dress, pantyhose, and shoes, deciding to simply let her sleep in a diaper, which is also changed. Ruth may have improved as a mother over the past few months, but she is far from being able to change babies properly.

Once Sybil is clean, Emma lifts her up again and brings the baby to her crib. She kisses the little one several times before laying her down in bed. She places a small soft pink blanket on top, the one that was once hers, one that kept her safe and warm on cold nights.

Tired and very weak, Emma simply stands still for a long while, watching Sybil sleep. She continues to cry quietly, so broken and so scared. She wishes beyond all measure that life had a reset button and she could somehow go back to her sister's birth and somehow save her parents from dying. Then maybe… just maybe, none of this would've happened. She would have her loving parents by her side, she and Peter would be happily married by now, maybe expecting a child of their own… living a simple quiet life. Then again, if her parents hadn't passed, then she never would've met Jack and Rose and let them become apart of her family. The two meant as much to her as Peter, Sybil and her parents combined and now… Now Jack was in prison, and Rose was gone, Caledon Hockley likely had something to do with both of these events.

She grips the side of the crib in anger. This man should not have this kind of power over them, he may be rich, but he didn't run the whole world… he's not better than those men she took the classes at the college with. They all assumed that she was just weak female and didn't deserve the recognition she was given. They also interfered with her life and left her feeling insignificant…

But Emma knew better. She wasn't going to let society stand in the way of her promises. The promises she made to her mother about taking care of Sybil, giving her the best life possible and the promises to her father about making him proud and running his law firm properly. It didn't matter what others thought about her or her family. She wasn't meant to be a helpless housewife with no future. Even though it may have been like the whole world was against her a lot of the time, she was a fighter and always had been. And maybe that's why it seemed so difficult all the time… she wasn't a normal person and her life was anything but… so there would be obstacles and even when she was broken down, she came back even stronger it felt. It made the eighteen-year-old wise beyond her years and someone her baby sister could look up.

It may have felt like she didn't have a lot of fight left in her, but it was still there. Like the fire in Rose, the passion in Jack and the love in Peter, she would fight on.

"I will make things right Sybil, I promise… and just in time for your birthday…"

 _Please read and review_


	76. Chapter 75: Trapped in Hell

Chapter 75: Trapped in Hell

"Please be careful with her Riptide!" Cal hisses as the manservant carries the bound and unconscious woman through the back door of his house. All the other servants had gone home for the night and the mansion was dark as its master's soul. The two men had driven home in complete silence, knowing what they had now become a part of, literally selling their souls to the devil himself. But to Cal, it was still a victory, Dawson would never ever defeat him and the steel tycoon would have everything no matter how many people he had to stomp on in order to get it. Rose was his and always would be.

"My apologies Mr. Hockley, but please keep in mind she is incredibly heavy and I cannot move without harming the infant."

"I understand your pain, but what I meant was don't hit her head on the door frame. It might wake her up, and I want to be the first thing she sees when it happens. I could care less about what happens to Dawson's bastard spawn in her. We'll take care of that later."

Riptide bites his lip, he's not sure if his master has thought through what this could mean for him in terms of consequences and how would he expect to marry Miss Dawson and have the life he wanted if he'd already kidnapped her and was holding her against her will. He shuddered slightly at the man's comment of "taking care of" the baby. The manservant may do a lot of things, but he would certainly not murder an innocent child, much less an unborn one. He pants and readjusts a few times to ensure that he did not drop the pregnant hostage.

The two cuts through the back kitchen, Cal unlocking doors and holding them for his servant. His eyes often went hungrily back to the redheaded prey, helpless and finally could not run away. He should have tied her up a long time ago and kept her in the mansion always, she was like a rogue animal, not being able to stay in one place to be domesticated.

Mr. Hockley opens the door to the furthest cellar/basement, which was cold and very dark. The steel tycoon lit a candle and supported his manservant with the heavy load down the stairs.

The cellar was an awful place, made almost completely of concrete, no windows, a few large wine vats lined the back wall and single light bulb swinging on a chain, which Cal pulled as they entered the room. Since the invention of the icebox, there was no need to store food down here anymore, so it sat dormant until now. It was one of a few that was now a prison cell for a woman who had been trapped more times than one could count. And this would be one more.

"Set her here," Cal says, pulling up and an old chair. The man had prepared the room to his liking, complete with everything he would need to hold a Rose hostage.

Riptide sat Rose in the chair, her head lolling from one side, still unconscious. The manservant then went to the corner of the room to rest. Cal then lifted her bound arms and put them over the back of the chair until it appeared that she'd been tied to it. He then grabbed some more rope from the corner. He wound it around her upper body, not caring how tight it might be or that it would ruin her wedding dress or that it would compress her baby bump. She shouldn't have a child inside her anyway. He then adds ties her already tied feet to the legs of the chair. He then stands back to admire his work.

Rose looked completely helpless, almost like a rope sculpture, there was no way she would escape or that anyone would be able to find her. Then he leans down and kisses the top of her head.

"She probably won't wake until morning," Cal says confidently. "We can go and rest, you certainly earned it. Then tomorrow, I can bring some more tools down here."

"Very good sir," Riptide says, still sounding slightly out of breath. The manservant goes towards the steel door that locked from the outside and pauses.

"Sir…?"

"What?"

"If you don't mind me asking… what do you hope to achieve from all of this?"

Cal swallows a very large lump in his throat and even through the dim lightbulb, one could see that his face and ears were turning red. Being asked this question infuriated him to no end. He sucks in a breath and turns to face his trusted "friend."

"Let me tell you this Riptide, and I'm only going to tell you it once." The dark-haired tycoon steps closer and closer as he speaks. "Working for me is the opportunity of a lifetime, no one will pay you as well as me. You knew when I hired you that you would have to deal with things that are more unpleasant. If you suddenly feel squeamish after all that's happened… let me give you an ultimatum…"

Riptide is backed against the steel door as Cal is now inches from his face. The servant's heart is pounding loudly, he tries not to show fear but a few frightened breaths escape his lips.

"Either you serve me with complete and utter loyalty, not questioning my authority or… I can make sure that you never work again…"

Riptide nervously gazes into the man's dark eyes, they were soulless and devoid of any form of love, sympathy, or regret for what he'd done. He was a man who got what he wanted one way or another.

"Breathe a word of this to anyone and you will be very sorry," the man adds. "You have your choice…"

"I-I give my loyalty to you and o-only you," the man breathes.

"That's what I thought, now come, our work for tonight is done."

…

In the beginning, there was nothing but pain.

 _Why do I hurt so much?_

Rose's head hurt. It's throbbing continuously, pounding against her skull. In fact, a lot of her body was in pain and she wasn't sure why. Her mind is very foggy and she can vaguely feel her senses slowly coming back to her. Her hands and feet were tingling a lot too. It was so strange.

 _Where am I? What happened?_ She ponders. She breathes in the seemingly cold autumn air to clear her head. She tries to open her eyes to get out of this darkness. Her neck is numb as she slowly moves it upwards, trying to find the light. She continues to try and open her eyes, but they won't budge. Her mouth is very dry and she can't seem to speak at all.

What happened to her? Was she dead? Why was it so cold?

Then something in her abdomen moves. She can feel the tiny familiar sensation of a baby kicking against her. The rhythmic beat of small feet trying to let her know that it was there. This seemed to bring Rose back to reality more and suddenly the memories come flowing back like the rush of a waterfall.

The wedding! She and Jack were just about to kiss when police barged in and arrested him. She fought to keep him here and she ran after the police out into the church parking lot. She watched Jack be loaded into the police wagon, he seemed to try to be screaming something to her, but as she ran after the wagon, delirious in grief and confusion, she let her guard down. As the wagon rounded the corner, Rose went with it, still in her wedding dress, which was slowing her down. She went around to the back parking lot, tears burning her eyes. She wanted to scream out in fear, but she never got the chance.

Suddenly, something covered her nose and mouth with an extreme form of pressure. It muffled the scream she tried to let out, some dark gloved hand was holding it to her face while others tried to grab a hold of her entire body. She immediately started struggling with all the strength she had; trying to fight what she now knew was a rag that was pressed against her face. She stomped on feet, twisted herself out of the grips of the hands. She tried to turn and see who was attacking her, but all she saw were rimmed hats and trench coats. A pair of hands managed to grab her arms and force them behind her back. She thrashed and fought, but somehow the rag stayed to her face.

After a few moments, her entire body became weaker and weaker, her strength to fight was leaving her. Rose could feel her head spinning and the world around her seemed to follow. She had very little time to comprehend what happened next when darkness claimed her consciousness.

She knew she'd been grabbed by someone, that much was true and now, Rose would try fighting again. Although not all her strength was back, she'd have to try. She begins struggling to move her limbs and to her horror, she finds she can't move them. She tries to scream out, but all that comes out is a muffled scream. She begins thrashing back and forth, trying to break whatever bonds were holding her, but to no avail.

Suddenly, a cold voice reaches her ears.

"I'd stop struggling if I were you, it will only make it worse."

Rose's heart drops to her stomach. She recognized that voice anywhere. The last time she heard it, he was asking why she was going to powder her nose. It was cold and unforgiving, with little kindness behind the words. She began to panic and became very much afraid. Her mind is racing with questions, wondering how he found her and why he'd do this to her.

She thrashes even more until she feels something on her face and then she can suddenly see again.

Her green eyes blink frequently to adjust to the light, it wasn't very bright, but once her vision was in focus she saw the face of a man of whom she never wanted to see again.

"Hello sweet pea…" he smirks. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Rose wants to yell out, but she finds her mouth stuffed with a thick gag. She looks down at herself, she's still in her dress, but she's nearly bound from head to foot. Her eyes look frantically around, trying to find out where she was. It was dark and the only source of light was from a bulb above her. The chair she was tied to rocked a few times as she struggled until Cal put his hands on either side of it to stop the motion.

"You really thought you could escape me?" he hisses menacingly. He cups her chin so they are looking eye to eye. Rose tries to look brave, but her entire body is trembling. Cal looks more deranged and angry than he did before. She knew why he was all those things, but it didn't make her understand this anymore. Her heart pounds in her ribcage, a shiver going up her spine as he forces her to look at him.

"You really thought that you had outsmarted me?" he says, malice and satisfaction dripping in his voice. "I thought I made this clear to Dawson and everyone else that you were 'friends' with, I always win."

If she wasn't gagged, Rose would have tried to bite him. She attempts to turn away, but he grips her face harder, forcing it to stay.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" he barks, squeezing her chin tightly so much it hurt.

His entire body is filled with rage. He wanted to make her pay, to make her feel the pain that he had gone through, the embarrassment, the rage, the need, the anger and now… he could.

"You can give up the idea of escape," he taunts with glee. "No one knows that you're here nor do I doubt that they care. Even if they did, your beloved gutter rat will be spending many years behind bars for child kidnapping, rape involving conception, theft and attempted murder."

It clicks in Rose's mind that it was Cal who got Jack arrested in the first place. She glares at him with as much anger as she can muster. She tries to struggle again, but he holds the chair in place.

"I'm going to enjoy this very much, Rose…" Cal says, licking his lips and then his teeth. He keeps her face in his grip. "I'm going to make you feel what I've felt these past few months…"

Rose shudders in fear, she tries to say something to Cal, but can't.

"What's that?" he smirks. "Why yes, I do think you deserve it…"

Rose makes more noises in anger.

"Don't worry about the spawn, I have plans for it too. You should know by now, I'm not above hurting women or children." Both flashback to the showdown on the stern where he threatened to kill Emma and Baby Sybil.

"But first, we're going to have a little fun…"

 _A/N: Cal has what he wants and he's not going to let it go. Please read and review_


	77. Chapter 76: Torture Most Foul

Chapter 76: Torture Most Foul

Jack sits in his cell, he hasn't slept at all since Emma and Peter left him to go home. His tuxedo jacket lays under his head as a sort of pillow and the corsage he'd been wearing was now on the floor. The poor man is exhausted; today was supposed to be his wedding day, the happiest day of his life, instead, it may be the worst, up there with the nearly dying in the sinking and the death of his parents in the house fire. His body is telling him to rest, his eyes drooping, but his mind won't shut down. Thinking the same thing over and over…

 _Rose is missing… Rose is missing…_

He keeps crying into his hands as her beautiful face appears afraid and tormented in his thoughts. He remembers the night when Cal was holding her a knifepoint while the tycoon threatened Peter, Emma, and Sybil with his gun. The look on her beautiful face, it should not have such expressions on it. He thinks about how helpless she must've felt… how scared. He doesn't want to picture what her face now, wherever she may be.

He doesn't have to think too hard of where she is. He can say for certain that Cal abducted her from the church. How he managed to do that without being caught is not important anymore, what matters is that Rose's and the baby's lives are in great danger. The four friends knew that Cal was not a man of restraint nor one of mercy. He abducted Sybil and left her on the deck of the stern, not caring if she froze to death. He shot Peter in the leg without a second thought and then he shot at Rose and him, chasing them into the heart of a flooding ship. Emma was the only one who managed to escape Caledon Hockley's wrath that night, which was fine because Jack would not force it on his worst enemy… which was the already mentioned man. Still, she knew as well as anyone how jealous and vengeful the tycoon was. He did not like to lose and he'd do anything to get his way. The man would not be above killing him and Rose's unborn child.

The problem was the police weren't listening to either him or his lawyers when they told them about Mr. Hockley. They all believed that he was a respected and wealthy member of American Society and knew nothing of his dark side. To add insult to injury, Emma and Peter had no proof that Cal had kidnapped Rose nor that he'd been the one to report Jack to the police. It was stressful and Jack was on the brink of full insanity.

He slammed his fist against the wall in anger. It hurt, but the pain of not being with Rose and his child was much greater. He continues looking upward at the ceiling of his cell, wanting to find some way to escape and find his fiancée. He was like an animal trapped inside a cage; forced inside as the walls closed in around him. He was now the butterfly trapped the jar, slowly being suffocated, helpless to do anything. He squeezes his hands together in frustration. He has to find Rose, he has to get out of here.

If Cal had been out for revenge on Jack, he'd certainly succeeded in torturing him, trapping him in a literal cage, unable to rescue Rose again or interfere again.

…

"Are you sure everyone has gone?" Cal asks his manservant as he locks the front door of his mansion. He had just had a lavish dinner for his fellow business tycoons as they discussed the next phase of the steel plant they'd be expanding. They hoped that such a bold move would bring in, even more, money to their companies and provide more jobs for the working class. Of course, Cal only cared about the money, but it felt nice to do some regular business.

However, the dark-haired man was getting anxious as all the men finished their cigars and brandy and thanked their host before leaving. His heart beat in his chest, he was looking forward to what he had planned for the rest of the evening. Something that involved the cellar.

"They have sir," the manservant says. He now refuses to look his master in the eye, not just out of fear, but also anguish, knowing what was going to happen next.

"Good, now make sure that all the staff are gone and the doors are all locked. I need you to gather a candle and its holder and several knives. I'll meet you downstairs. I have some tools to acquire."

"Very good Mr. Hockley," his servant nods before obeying his master.

Cal goes into his garage, which contained several shiny and beautiful automobiles, all polished to perfection and could drive at superior speeds. But the tycoon was after some things on the opposite end, things that would be very useful in what was to come.

He finds several tools, ones with sharp ends, more rope, metal pegs, a hammer, even heavy metal chains and a whip. It had once been used by his father's coachman, when they traveled by carriage, to keep the beasts in line, but now it would be perfect for another kind of beast he had to tame.

Cal puts everything into a carpet bag and then goes back into his mansion. His stomach is doing flips in excitement, knowing how satisfied he will feel after this. He could finally express his true feelings to the one who had triggered them in the first place.

The millionaire takes the creaky wooden steps to the basement, each one squeaking ominously. He slips behind a large wine rack and comes to the steel door. Riptide waits next to it with the supplies he'd been ordered to bring. Cal reaches into his suit pocket and removes the key. He gives it a forceful twist and the padlock falls to the floor. He slowly opens it and enters the dark room. He can hear the faint breath of his prisoner and his heart is not ramming against his chest in anticipation.

He pulls the chain down, illuminating the room.

Rose remains bound to the chair, once again blindfolded, and gagged. She's been tied up most of the day; stiff, sore, and hungry. The baby also agreeing with the need for food by kicking to let its mother know it was famished. All she could really do was cry, she was so helpless to care for her child… she was in the hands of a madman. Her heartbeat accelerates when she hears who was most likely Cal and his demonic manservant.

"Hello again Rose, I hope you are enjoying your accommodations," he says in a smooth voice.

The red-head tries to swear at her former fiancé through the gag, tell him exactly what she thought about him, but no one would be able to understand her. Cal chuckles to himself as he sees Rose try to struggle again, with her efforts being futile.

Cal then turns to his manservant. "Let's let her stretch her legs a little bit."

The two men then go to the steel tycoon's instructions. Rose hears movement going on around her and she again tries desperately to free herself. She doesn't want to know what they are going to do to her… She's a pawn in their game, she can't see what they are doing, which makes it ten times worse. She's trying to stay brave, but knowing Cal, there's no point. He will not hold back on his plans for her.

Once the men are done, they approach the pregnant woman. She suddenly feels pressure around her neck, like someone has his arm wrapped around it. She struggles again, but this does nothing to stop the men. It takes a moment but suddenly she feels the weight around her body, wrists, and ankles, where she'd been tied loosen. Feeling begins to come back to her body as one of the men seems to be loosening the ropes. She feels newfound strength, she's ready to fight once her bonds are gone completely.

However, these men seemed to be prepared for this. As her hands are freed, Rose feels enormous pressure against her neck, cutting off her air supply. She tries to gasp for breath, but the gag makes it extremely hard. She's basically being suffocated. Her mind is overwhelmed and she can't think straight, unable to use her hands properly. She feels someone holding it firmly and more pressure around her wrist. She cannot see what's happening but the roughness of the texture indicates that it is likely rope again. Whoever has her around the neck will not release her, Rose starts seeing white light mixed with darkness, her body struggling to stay conscious.

"Not too hard," she hears a far-off voice say. She doesn't know what happens next as darkness takes her.

…

Rose imagines herself at the altar again. Walking up towards the man of her dreams, the bouquet of white roses in her hand and a veil over her face. She cannot see clearly who the man is, but she knows who it is. Once she reaches the man, he takes her hand and she stands to face him. She can't help but continue to smile, once and a while rubbing her baby bump under her silky dress. She cannot hear what the priest is saying, but she doesn't care, she's finally getting married.

She feels the cold ring go onto her finger and she does the same to the hand still holding hers. Finally, she hears the line they've been waiting for, her heart racing in anticipation.

The man lets go of her hand reaches up to remove the veil. She'll finally be able to see his handsome face… the shiny blonde hair, the lively blue eyes, the smile that made her laugh and swoon. Her own smile gets wider and wider as the cover is slowly removed from her face… Then she sees his face.

Her heart drops in horror when she sees who it was. Instead of lively blue eyes, they are cold brown, instead of shiny blonde hair, dark black as the soul who stands in front of her. His elongated face forms a smile, not one of happiness but a one of satisfaction, one of hunger and she does not swoon or laugh, she tries to scream out in horror.

"It's time to wake up Sweetpea," he says

…

Rose's mind suddenly comes back to reality and it takes a few moments for her to realize what's happened. The blindfold is removed and she can now see everything. Her arms are hurting and she realizes that both her wrists have been tied with rope and pulled up so they hang above her head like she was a marionette. Her legs are spread out slightly, her ankles bound with more rope and seemed to be tied to metal pegs on the dirt floor. She is now in a much more vulnerable position, exposing her pregnant belly and the entire from half of her body. She looks forward at her tormentor. He gives her a wicked smile. He knows he's going to enjoy this.

"Welcome back," he says quietly. He takes a step towards her and Rose can see what's in his hand. It's a long sharp knife, the kind used for cutting steak. The frightened red-head immediately tries to move away, but the ropes keep her in this one place. She tries to scream out from the gag, beg and plead for her life as he comes closer. She wants to turn away and she shuts her eyes, knowing what was coming. She tries to think of Jack, Peter, Emma, and Sybil, even her mother, all of whom she'd never see again.

She shuts her eyes and waits for the pain. He grasps her body tightly and she can feel the point of the knife. She says her goodbyes through her tears, waiting for the end.

Instead, a funny noise comes to her ears. The sound of ripping. When she opens her eyes again, Rose is horrified to see that Cal is slowly cutting her wedding dress from her body. She can feel the cold sharp point grazing her bare skin as the maniac cuts away at the elaborate fabric, the material that her friend had worked so hard in repairing. She feels the blade reach her very pregnant stomach and she instinctively tries not to move, praying that the weapon will not pierce her abdomen or hurt her baby. She continues to cry, more out of fear, but also out of sadness for the dress in which she loved and paid for herself.

The ripping sound continues until Rose feels a very cold chill surround her body. She opens her eyes to see that Cal has stepped away, with the remains of her beautiful wedding dress at her bound feet. She is now in her undergarments, even more, exposed and helpless than before. She can't help but feel a little relief of being unharmed with the knife.

However, Cal seems to sense her release of fear because he speaks up again.

"Now that that rag is out of the way, the real fun can begin…"

 _A/N: I want to apologize to all my readers. I'll try to keep the darker elements to a minimum. I especially apologize to Guest reviewer Sam Fraser. Obviously, they hate it and I realize how uncomfortable this can be. I will work on this. I am very sorry_


	78. Chapter 77: Unlikely Kindness

Chapter 77: Unlikely Kindness and Revelation

 _A/N: Thanks to a concerned reader, I've decided to avoid anymore dark and descriptive torture. I'm just going to imply it and leave it to the reader's imagination if you want to. My deepest apologies to people who hate this, I guess I wasn't thinking properly of how people would react. I'm sorry and please don't stop reading, there is still a lot more coming. I am especially sorry to Sam Fraser and thank him for pointing this flaw out._

Darkness has been her escape. Rose hasn't felt pain like this before. She truly was in hell and Cal was her tormentor, taking great pleasure in watching her suffer. Most of her thoughts were of her child, could he or she be able to survive this pain? Was he trying to kill it first? What did he want from her that he hadn't already taken? Also, between the moments of pain, she thought of Jack. She has high hopes that he would come to rescue her or she'd wake up and this would all be a dream. She'd be happily married to Jack and they were on their honeymoon. Of course, every time she opened her eyes, she was still in this hell hole.

Cal had done many unspeakable things to her, enjoying making her scream out or merely watch her flinch. The man was pure evil, doing what he wanted to her like she was a piece of meat. She tries to block out what happened and it mostly comes back in flashes. Rushes of what happened, a blade, a whip… The pain, how much it burned, her screams, the tears in her eyes, how helpless she was to do anything.

When he was done, he had his manservant give her a robe and then tie her against the wall again. Her only escape was unconsciousness, where she felt nothing at all and could dream of Jack holding her tightly. Her hands were bound in front of her this time, which allowed her to put her hands on her swollen stomach, which was now scarred from being in this prison. She kept praying for God to protect her baby and so far, he'd answered those prayers, she still felt movement inside and when she was alone, she'd talk to the baby. Tell him or her that she loved them and that she was sorry for what had happened. The quiet moments were heavenly and she kept her hopes up that her friends and Jack would find her...

"When we get out of here, I'm going to spoil you rotten," she says quietly. "And I can't wait to meet you."

She hears the lock being adjusted. Rose swallows, afraid of what might be on the other side of the door… more sadistic moments… more pain. To her relief, it was only Riptide.

He brought a tray of food to her, even though she was a prisoner, Cal insisted that she remain fed and hydrated… why was unclear because of all the other things he'd been doing to her.

She keeps her eyes down as the man places it in front of her. Rose reaches forward with her bound hands and begins to eat.

"I know that there is a special place in hell for people like you," she hisses, eating a piece of bread. She may not speak out to Cal out of fear, but for his manservant, she could be as mean as she wanted. She told him the truth, confront him with what he was allowing to happen. "No moral compass or compassion."

Riptide says nothing, he remains poised and looks away from the prisoner.

"That's what you all are, soulless robots, take command without question."

The butler remains silent.

"Cal never told you what happened to the last manservant, did he?"

The man continues to stare forward.

"The things you do to remain employed. People like you disgust me…"

The silent witness merely turns away from the woman, not wanting to hear anything else.

He shuts the heavy metal door and lets out a very strangled sigh. His hands were shaking violently. He couldn't stand it… He was going mad. He couldn't imagine doing this to a woman, a pregnant woman no less, leaving her so broken and afraid.

Why must this man do this? Pursue this one woman? Why not leave her be? Why report her fiancé to the police? Why break her down like this? Why put her through such pain? There are many other women he could have and yet, he's pursuing this one… holding her prisoner for no real reason except to prove a point… But to whom? Himself?

The manservant still had nightmares, Rose's tortured screams echoing in his mind. He often averted his eyes as Mr. Hockley did what he wanted. It was pure depravity, a statement of revenge and anger, blurring the line of sanity it seemed, which Riptide felt he was losing himself. His conscious was tearing his mind apart and he often cried alone… he could never forgive himself for what he'd done, which was participating in this entire scheme. He could've gone to the police or perhaps done more to talk Mr. Hockley out of it, but what good would it do.

After viewing this woman, the manservant felt nothing but sympathy, she didn't deserve any of what was being inflicted upon her and with a child on the way… how traumatic could it be? The only thing he could do was make sure she was well fed and hydrated.

As he locks the cellar door again, his hands will not stop shaking. He wipes a tear from his eye. There's no way she or the unborn child could survive another horrific night. Her body was frail and a bit thinner, weak and scarred. His mind kept telling him to do something to spare her any further punishment.

As he walks upstairs to assist in dressing his master for a formal dinner party, his mind thinks of the key in his pocket, weighing him down like an anchor. His guilt-ridden mind slowly formulates a plot of some kind, something that Rose needed to have.

…

Emma and Peter sit at an interrogation table, with Jack handcuffed opposite from them. Stacks and stacks of papers in front of them as they try to build a defensive case.

"I still don't understand how this case is going to go forward," Emma sighs. "There's no leg to stand on, it's as flimsy as a house of cards."

"Yet, somehow Cal has managed to get a judge to agree…" Peter sighs.

The two both look at Jack, who is thinner than ever, in prison clothes, and very dark circles are under his eyes. He doesn't look like the happy-go-lucky Dawson they knew, the one who was so in love and excited about becoming a father, whose blue eyes lit up with laughter or squinted when he concentrated on his drawings. He was a man who had the world on his shoulders and wanted more than anything to find his fiancée. He didn't care if he went to prison for the rest of his life, as long as Rose and his baby were safe. He hated that his friends were here instead of out looking for her. He spent many sleepless nights thinking of her, wondering what Cal was doing to her.

"No doubt he bribed him," Emma mutters, she searches through various documents, ones that included the "anonymous" statement.

"What we need to do is prove that there is no case," Peter says.

"Or prove that Jack didn't do it at all."

"The first being hard because Cal is already bringing this to a courtroom and the latter being harder," the male lawyer states. "There's very little evidence to support that. It's our word against Cal's and we can't really testify because we're your lawyers and that's a breach of client trust and considering our relationship with you…"

"Why won't people believe you though?" Jack says, finally speaking after a long bout of silence. "You're both respected individuals. Besides, there are more of us than there is him."

"That is true," Emma says thoughtfully, her mind thinking back. "But it's harder for you to take the stand because most people would think you're just trying to defend your innocence."

"But I am innocent."

"We know that, but a jury doesn't," Peter says. "There's so little evidence. Most of the witnesses are dead and all the proof we have are the scars and memories."

"And that might be why he kidnapped Rose," Emma says, her mind working at full speed. She pulls her hair up out of her face as she thinks. "So, she couldn't speak on your behalf."

Jack clenches his fist at the mention of her name, his ears turn red in anger. "I swear, once I get out of here…"

"Don't say anymore," Peter snaps quickly. "You don't want to incriminate yourself any further."

"WHY IS THERE A FURTHER?!" Jack barks, his hands shaking so hard that the chains of the handcuffs rattle. A nearby guard snaps to attention, ready to react at a moment's notice, but Emma and Peter understand their friend's rage. They too are equally angry, if not more so, but the police were doing nothing to help. Everyone in Father Bill's church, Molly's women's rights group, people from Carl's work, the rest of the Whitman family, Mr. Calvert and a very fragile Ruth were banding together to find Rose. The redhead's face was plastered all over the city and many searches were being led. The problem was, it all seemed pointless because they knew where Rose was, they just couldn't prove it. They wanted Mr. Calvert to get involved, but since he was courting Rose's mother, he couldn't be considered viable considering the relationship. "I'M NOT A CRIMINAL, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING AND YET I'M IN JAIL WHILE MY WIFE IS IN THE HANDS OF A MANIAC!"

"Alright friend," a guard says. "It's time you go back to your cell."

"No, it's fine," Emma says incessantly. "He's just upset."

"I must do what I can to ensure your safety," the large man insists.

"He's not dangerous!" Emma practically growls, but of course, several police officers come into the room to escort Jack back. The young female lawyer, reaches out, wanting to grab her friend's hand, but Peter gives her a tight squeeze, indicating they couldn't. Her eyes fill with tears as Jack is led back to his cell.

She sits back in the chair, heartbroken and feeling helpless. She stares down at the paperwork on the desk. All this still wasn't enough to convince a judge. She begins to think very hard, scratching her nails against the metal table.

"We need to get another lawyer," she says suddenly.

"But why?" Peter asks.

"So we can be subpoenaed and testify," she says standing up, gather all the paper.

"Emma, no one will believe us."

"Two witnesses are better than one. We have to try Peter, we don't have another choice, as long as Cal is bribing the judge, we have to let the truth speak for itself."

Peter gazes into his wife's eyes, he can see the stress and sadness in them. They are strained and tired from working day and night to free Jack Dawson. He bets that his eyes are equally as overwrought and tense, Emma can see the worry written all over his face.

"We have to Peter, if we can prove Cal did those things, then maybe they'll take our own accusations more seriously…"

He swallows. "I hope you're right."

…

"Good evening sir," Riptide says as Caledon enters his bedroom. "How did the dinner party go?"

"Quite well Riptide, I must say. Normally I find them quite boring, but it's nice when you have something to look forward to after…" the dark-haired man smiles.

The servant goes to work on removing his master's clothes, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach twisting from the comment. He wasn't sure whether this will work or not, but he had to try, for the sake of that poor woman.

"How was she today?"

"Same as always sir, angry and rather uncivilized in her language."

"She's always been like that, don't ever take her words as important, I never did," Caledon says as he dresses in more comfortable clothing. He examines himself in the mirror, smiling at what was coming.

Riptide can see the look on the tycoon's face and he swallows a large lump.

"Master Hockley, there are a few things I must attend to before I join you in the cellar, would you mind if you took the key and started without me?"

"Not at all," Cal says.

The manservant begins searching his suit for said object, however, he cannot seem to find it.

"That's odd," he says as casually as he can.

"What's odd?"

"One moment sir," Riptide searches his pockets further. He pretends to become panicked. "Oh dear."

"What have you done Riptide?" Cal says, his voice becoming angry.

"I seem to have misplaced the key sir,"

"YOU WHAT?!"

"I swear to you sir, I had it on me when I brought food to her, but now it's not there."

Cal immediately grabs his manservant and begins rooting through the pockets. The steel tycoon becomes increasingly frantic. His face has gone bright red in anger. "WELL FIND IT THEN!" he shouts. It takes everything in his power not to strike the man across the face.

"Right away sir,"

Riptide immediately begins searching along the ground, walking about in search of the important object. He wanders through the first, second and third floor, Cal becoming more impatient with every passing second. He's as red as a tomato and he taps his foot impatiently.

"WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG?!" he barks.

"Retracing one's steps is not always easy sir,"

"Are you sure it's not in the cellar?" Cal growls.

"Quite positive Mr. Hockley, I remember putting it in my pocket."

"I should've made a copy of the key," he hisses. "I'm the owner of a steel corporation. I can make one."

"I am so terribly sorry sir," Riptide says, trying to sound nervous and filled with regret. The regret part was false, but the anxiety was real, knowing exactly how Mr. Hockley tended to react when things did not go his way.

"It's getting late," Cal mutters.

"Please, sir. My deepest apologies, but might I suggest you turn in for the night, I will continue my search, all night if need be and we can do what we must to her tomorrow."

Caledon's face becomes very red, spreading all the way to his ears, but his dark eyes pause for a moment on his servant. The dinner party had been rather exhausting and maybe one night away from his prisoner would not be a bad thing.

"Alright," he finally says. "Keep in mind, I will take money out of your pay for that."

"Understood sir, I am very sorry. Now please allow me to help you prepare for bed."

After Cal's door is shut, Riptide makes loud noises as he pretends to look for the key to the cellar. His heart was still pounding but there was a large amount of release in his stomach, he'd saved Rose and her child from a night of horror. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep the skit going but to spare the woman from the maniacal man's torture, he was willing to take the pay dock. He kept the noise up for about an hour until he was certain that Mr. Hockley would be asleep and then slips into his own room for the night. For once he was glad that he was all the way across the mansion from his master. He was also pleased that the mansion was so large and vast, that he could keep the façade up for at least a few days. He would secretly still give Rose food, but still keep the key hidden, to save this woman.

…

"Are you coming to bed soon Emma?" Peter asks. He holds a sleeping Sybil in his arms. Emma sits at the kitchen table, sorting through evidence in preparation for hiring the new lawyer, Mr. Jamieson is the best one for the job it seemed.

"I will, I just need to make sure I get the documents from the hospital and the _Carpathia_."

"Right, because of the bullet that went into my leg, if we can match it to Cal's gun, we'd have some proof."

"Exactly, we may even be able to get the doctor from the rescue ship to testify."

Peter leans down and kisses his wife on the head. He feels so much pride that she was doing so much for her friends, how far she was willing to go. He was concerned about her health, but he knew she was strong and could power through. He knew she would never quit until everything was ready.

"Alright, well I'll see you upstairs. Good night."

"Good night I love you," She says, kissing his lips. She then kisses her baby sister.

She's then alone in the kitchen. The house felt so empty now with both Rose and Jack MIA, it was an empty feeling. Sure people were going in and out of the place all the time with the searches, it was still a shell of what was once a happy place.

Emma busies herself with the records she obtained from the ship's doctor. She read over everything he described Peter's injury. The bullet had been able to be removed almost fully intact, which meant a lot in their favour. However, the gun was likely lost in the sinking. She had to go to a firearms expert for help with that.

She began reading through her own hospital records, something that she thought she might need for insurance reasons. Something catches her eye. She reads the description of the bullet that had been removed from her shoulder. It had been taken out in multiple parts, but the doctor was able to put the pieces together to show what the projectile looked like.

The description was identical to Peter's wounds. Her heart starts racing as her mind kicks into gear. Most guns had a specific bullet that fit them, a caliber, these were the same. She knew that shots were fired that night by the officers to keep the people back, but it wasn't necessarily at people. The only one who was shooting at anyone…

Her heart drops to her stomach. A sharp pain hit her shoulder and she goes over the side into the icy waters. She was with two people that night, the ones who were being fired at as they ran back into the sinking ship.

Now it all made sense to her.

"That son of a bitch!"

 _A/N: Finally Emma knows who shot her_


	79. Chapter 78: Desperate For Justice

Chapter 78: Desperate for Justice

"Emma, you're certain he shot you?" Peter asks in disbelief.

"It's all right here in black and white," she says, indicating the doctor's documents.

Jack sits in his cell as Emma and Peter walk around it, going over the evidence again to catch Mr. Jamieson up to speed on the case.

"That son of a bitch…" Jack hisses under his breath.

"That's what I said," Emma says.

"Hold on, we can't be sure of it, I mean there was a lot going on that night… Weren't officers firing their guns to stop people from crowding the boats?" Peter suggests.

"Yes, we cannot leave any room for doubt," Mr. Jamieson nods.

Jack swallowed and nodded. He'd heard from several survivor accounts that Tommy had been shot and killed by an officer. It was likely by accident and the officer ended up ending his life shortly after, but it was a possibility that one of those bullets hit her. He remembers the horror of running with Rose away from Cal as he shot at them with a final attempt to keep the two apart.

"But I wasn't anywhere near the lifeboats when I was hit," Emma counteracts. "In fact, there were no officers when Jack, Rose and I were trying to escape."

"I can testify to that," Jack agrees.

"It could have ricocheted though," Peter points out.

Emma stops for a moment. She knew she'd have to go back to the doctor and talk to him about it. She was 100% sure that Cal shot her with intent to kill. He may have been aiming at Rose or Jack, but it was likely that she was the target at that moment.

"I want to hear it from the doctor's mouth though," Emma says. "I hope we can secure him as a witness."

"It will be very likely," Mr. Jamieson says. "It will also add credibility to our case to have a medical professional on the stand."

"The doctor on the Carpathia however, will be harder to secure, he is likely at sea again," Emma adds. "But we still do have the medical records."

"If only we had the bullet to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that those bullets came from Cal's gun," Jack mutters.

"I'll ask the doctor, maybe he saved the pieces," Emma says thoughtfully.

"Let's hope so as that will make our case much stronger," Mr. Jamieson nods. He flips the pages to the incident on the stern. "However, proving that he shot you Emma will be harder. Remember we're trying to prove Mr. Dawson's innocence more than Mr. Hockley's guilt."

"But he is guilty," Emma protests.

"Regardless, let's focus on the strongest parts of the case. We have three eyewitnesses."

"It's our words against Cal's," Peter nods.

"But the problem of putting Jack on the stand is it will make the jury think that he's just trying to save his own skin," Emma points out.

"If only Ms. DeWitt Bukater was…" Mr. Jamieson trails off and swallows. He looks at Jack with concern. "I'm terribly sorry Mr. Dawson."

"It's okay," Jack shrugs miserably. "The sooner we can get me out of jail, the sooner we can find her."

"Which wouldn't be a problem if the police would do their jobs properly," Emma hisses. "They won't even question Cal."

Peter puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes it. "We'll find her. Once we put Cal in jail for all the other things he's done, they'll force him to release Rose."

"Let's hope so," she swallows.

"The shooting will be no problem with two eyewitnesses, but the theft of a valuable necklace is something else entirely…"

"I didn't steal the necklace," Jack insists. "The only thing I did take was the jacket, but I was going to return it."

"That's easy enough to say, but not enough to prove I'm afraid," the newest lawyer grimaces.

"Cal has the necklace now and I'm sure he'll put it into evidence."

"How many witnesses were there to the alleged theft?"

"Rose, Cal, me, Jack, Lovejoy, the Master-at-Arms, Officer Murdoch, Officer Lightoller and a few others."

"What about Peter?"

"I was unconscious at this point," Peter explains. "The shot sent me backward and I hit my head on the deck. I was out cold for at least half an hour."

"That is slightly problematic because that only leaves Emma and Jack as witnesses in favour of the theft charge. As far as I am aware, Officer Murdoch, The Master-at-Arms, Thomas King, and Spicer Lovejoy are all deceased? Correct?"

"Yes," Peter nods.

"That means that Cal will have Lightoller testify against us."

"Lovejoy put it in my pocket," Jack exclaims.

"We believe you son, but unfortunately they need evidence to prove otherwise."

"I only saw the necklace once, before Rose put it back in the safe and she was with me the rest of the time."

"Are you sure?"

Jack swallows. "There were a few minutes where Rose was changing her clothes and me being the gentleman that I am, stayed in a separate room."

"Why was she changing her clothes?" Mr. Jamieson inquires.

Emma, Peter, and Jack all look at each other nervously. Jack then explains his talents as an artist and how he usually drew nudes… Rose is one of his models. Mr. Jamieson turns red from shock and slight discomfort for having to hear this, but he nods and takes a few more notes. Jack's ears turn red from slight embarrassment too as this had been a very intimate moment with Rose and he'd only chosen to share it with his closest friends.

"And where is this picture?"

"At the bottom of the Atlantic," Jack says firmly.

"Well…" he hesitates. "We should not bring that up in court since Rose was technically engaged to Caledon at the time and it would paint both of you in a bad light."

"Besides, Cal has no proof that the drawing exists anymore," Emma adds confidently.

"We won't bring up the alleged theft of the coat and hat either. Cal might bring it up, but again there is little proof," Mr. Jamieson adds. "And then there is the charge of rape…"

"I did not rape Rose! The time we… were intimate, it was completely consensual and we've been intimate since then. We both wanted it and we did it out of love nothing else. And it's that love that we have a baby on the way."

"Yes, but again it was out of wedlock and with Rose still engaged at the time, this will be viewed as adulterous and put more bad light on you…"

"And only Rose can confirm this…" Emma says trailing off. She sighs once again… their case was flimsy at best, they could only prove a few things, but not everything. So, Jack could still be put in prison for crimes he did not commit. They needed to find Rose as soon as possible, she was the missing link that could clear her beloved fiancé completely.

The group sits in silence for a few moments thinking about everything. Eventually, Emma decides to get in touch with the doctor. She and Peter hug Jack through the bars before leaving, Mr. Jamieson not too far behind.

Alone again, Jack's mind goes back to Rose and their child and how much danger they were in, as he often did... He knew Cal wasn't above killing an innocent baby… the proof of that came from when he threatened to shoot Sybil on the stern. He wouldn't hesitate to kill their unborn son or daughter… or Rose for that matter. Jack knew that Rose would be fighting to get free. She had that fire and the strength to do so, but when in the hands of a disturbed and ruthless man like Cal, she didn't stand a chance.

He had to find her, he had to save her… but he couldn't do anything while locked in this cage like an animal.

As night begins to fall on the police station, the warden comes and brings Jack his dinner, a sandwich, and some water, but like many days before, he had no appetite and didn't really eat anything. Emma and Peter had fought to keep him in the police station holding cells instead of going to a full-fledged prison across town. They knew he would likely be killed in a prison, mostly because he wouldn't fight back… at least unless he was close to being killed. So, from this, the station had to give him any kind of food that they could scrape together. The warden would often say that this was an anonymous officer's own lunch box. Jack knew that it was Joel; it was his co-worker's way of trying to say sorry that he couldn't help more. He knew that Joel was trying, but there was so much more than he could be doing. He decided to have Emma and Peter talk to his co-worker of being the head of Rose's search.

However, tonight, there was a sheet of paper on the tray of his food. The warden said it was a note from someone, but he wasn't sure who. Thinking it might be a message from Emma or Peter, he opens it. His heart drops when he reads over each word, acid climbing up his throat.

 _Hello, Dawson,_

 _It has been a long time since we spoke and let me just say you should have stayed dead. Thought you should know that Rose is well taken care of, and the brat too. She's being treated as a Dawson should be. Hoping that she'll soon forget about you once the court case is over. Your precious friends won't be able to prove anything. You are where you deserve to be and so is she. Hope you said those goodbyes at the altar and remember that as you are put away for life, your spawn will not have one at all. Like I've said before Dawson_

 _I always win…_

Jack crunches the note up, wanting to rip it into pieces. His eyes fill with angry tears, his chest becomes tight, he grinds his teeth together and then punches the wall behind him. He holds his tongue, trying to keep that primal scream of anger from being released. He crinkles the letter into a tiny ball and throws it across the room. He punches at the wall more and more until his knuckles are bleeding, but he doesn't care.

He had to get out of here! The life of their child was at stake. He couldn't wait for the courts to release him. He had to escape. NOW!

 _A/n: Sorry if this chapter is a little boring, but things are starting to heat up. (Also I am only going with the movie version of Murdoch, not the real thing as his family once had such a feud with James Cameron over it)._


	80. Chapter 79: Read All About It

Chapter 79: Read All About It

Rose is curled up in a ball, holding the weight of her unborn child with her knees as her hands were bound behind her. Her red, curly hair lays sprawled out like a fan on the cold concrete floor. She only had a cotton robe that Cal had provided for her for any form of warmth. She let her tears fall into her hair as she lays on the cold floor.

What had she done to warrant this type of treatment? All she wanted was to be free from Cal once and for all now she was in his clutches again, this time it seems indefinite… or at least it's what Cal says while he's torturing her. He tells her that he will make sure that Jack is never released from prison and her "pathetic" friends would never find her. They weren't even looking for her. He boasts about how when the search for her dies down, they will leave the country, perhaps on another ship and travel far away from where no one would recognize her and they could finally be married, just as they were always "meant" to do. Either that, or he'd arrange an accident at sea, where she really could "go down with a ship" and Rose DeWitt Bukater would truly be dead.

The threats make her heart pound and she cries continuously, which makes Cal's torture of her even more enjoyable to him. She's doing her best to remain strong, or at least trying to do so. When given the chances to speak, Rose refuses to denounce Jack or anyone else and she outwardly insults him, despite the pain that it will bring her in the end. She needs to keep that fire going, the one that has burned inside her for so long now… the one that made her free from society and Cal's control.

She hears the door open at the end of the hall, she winces, expecting it to be Cal, but it's Riptide. He comes bearing another tray of food for her. His shadow is cast along the concrete wall as he turns on the single bulb. She turns her eyes away from him as he walks closer to her. He places the tray down and waits for Rose to make the next move.

She wants to just ignore him, maybe starve herself enough that Cal will have to let her go, but she is carrying another life inside of her, she can't be a martyr while her child is still inside of her. She slowly sits up and the manservant undoes the gag around her mouth. Immediately she licks her lips to moisten them and allow her mouth to recover from being forcibly silenced for so long. She doesn't say anything to him and avoids looking any further. Riptide then loosens the ropes that held her wrists behind her. He gives her enough leeway that she can move them around to the front and actually eat the food given to her.

She notices that there is a bit more food than before as she begins to eat. Her baby thanks to her for the extra nourishment. She doubted this was Cal's doing, but it could've been the manservant. Rose had noticed that the silent servant at least had a partial soul. He had allegedly lost the key to the cellar, sparing her at least a day of torture and had actually left her some extra food to last that particular day. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but it seemed as if he was trying to show her some kindness, something Cal did not. At least he wasn't Lovejoy… In some ways, he was worse and others, less. He had a heart and some form of sympathy, but he still participated in Cal's schemes without questioning anything. Perhaps he was trying to make it up to God so he wouldn't be sent to hell after he dies. Maybe he felt sorry for her plight or maybe it was just the baby.

Rose knew that the only reason Cal hadn't tortured her to the maximum was that of the baby. Cal may have very few morals, but one of the ones he maintained was never harming children… at least not the extent he was going with her. He had threatened it, but it seemed unlikely to anyone that he'd go through with the warning. Her thoughts went to when the baby was born… what would happen to him or her? Would Cal let her keep it? Or would he abandon it? Or maybe he'd get someone else to kill it for him? If that happened, Rose would gladly give her life for her child rather than let anyone take its life.

The prisoner and the warden remain silent for a long time, the tension hanging in the air like a thick sheet of fog. However, Riptide has something else for her. He awkwardly places it down next to the food tray and then leaves, locking the cellar door behind him.

Rose is hesitant to pick it up but realizes that it's a newspaper. Several actually. She puts aside her food and picks it up. Reading the date, she can see that she's been down in the filthy cellar for almost a week now. Her heart breaks thinking about how long she's been victimized.

She finds the newspaper that must've come out the day after the wedding.

 _Arrest at Double Wedding and Runaway Bride_

 _On October 16_ _th_ _, 1912, most guests at the double wedding of Emma and Peter Whitman and Rose and Jack Dawson were in for a shock when two police officers stormed into the church and arrested Jack Dawson on the altar._

" _It was horrifying," one guest says, who preferred to remain anonymous. "Both people were just about to kiss when the doors at the back of the church opened and two men of the law came up the aisle. The dream became a nightmare. She (Rose) was visibly upset and even had to be warned away from the police officers so she would not interfere. She even followed the officers out into the parking lot"_

 _Miss Emma Carson is the owner of the Carson Law Company and her fiancé Peter Whitman, who is the head lawyer at the said firm, demanded to know the charges against their associate. According to one source, it was rape causing pregnancy, abduction or a child, attempted murder, and theft of a valuable. The lawyers reportedly told him not to say anything until they could get there._

 _However, to add more insult to injury, it is allegedly reported that Rose DeWitt Bukater, former fiancée of millionaire tycoon, Caledon Hockley, has now vanished, last seen crying in the parking lot of the church. The only evidence left behind was a torn veil and a bejeweled comb. No one saw what happened to the bride, some speculate that she may have suffered insanity and ran off into the night. Perhaps unable to cope with the arrest of her formerly future husband. Other alleges that she was arrested as well, but this has turned out to be false._

 _Margret Brown, the well-known socialite, was also present refused to say anything at this time as Holly Gregson, sister to Peter Whitman._

 _Police are asking for the public's help in finding more evidence to build their case and if you have seen Rose DeWitt Bukater to please contact the local authorities immediately._

Rose has tears in her eyes as she wants to crumple the paper up and throw it aside. She hadn't run away, she'd never abandon Jack like that… She wasn't insane, she'd been kidnapped. It also made her sick to think that even though she'd dumped Cal, she was still being associated with him. She couldn't rid herself of him.

She tosses the paper aside and picks up the next one.

The headline reads: _Lawyers Proclaim Dawson Innocent of Charges_

 _After his dramatic arrest at his own shotgun wedding, Jack Dawson, a survivor of the Titanic disaster now sits in a prison cell, awaiting to be charged with his alleged crimes. He has been denied bail. The police insist that he must be kept behind bars as he might be a danger to society._

 _His lawyers and friends, Peter Whitman and Emma Carson, insist that all the charges are false; that "He (Jack) is being framed, Jack is not a danger to anyone and all these accusations are fabrications. The crimes he is charged with were committed, but not by him" The two lawyers claim they have an idea of who reported him and who really did the crimes but refuse to say so for reporters and for the sake of their client. They will say that the real perpetrator is a high standing member of society._

" _None of these charges will stick," Miss Carson claims, daughter and inheritor Andrew Carson's Law firm. "The rape charge is absolute nonsense."_

 _However, the only person who can shed light on the said charge is the man's fiancée, Rose DeWitt Bukater, who allegedly publicly dumped Caledon Hockley, the steel tycoon, and ran off with this new man. She is also reportedly carrying the accused's baby. She has yet to show her face in public. Sources say she is avoiding the limelight for the sake of the child and her life._

Rose felt a little relief after reading the full story, knowing that Peter and Emma were doing their best to free Jack. She knew they were both good lawyers and that they would succeed. She is still angry that he's being called a rapist. Any relations she had with Jack were completely consensual, and it ended up creating new life. The only problem was, she wasn't there to say so herself.

The next headline reads: _Lawyers Claim Bride's Kidnapping_

 _Lawyers of accused Jack Dawson now claim that his fiancée and mother of his bastard child, Rose DeWitt Bukater has been kidnapped._

" _She would never abandon Jack," Emma Carson, who is close friends with the missing bride. "She's a good person and would not run off like this."_

 _Her own fiancé agrees as well as other family members, including Margret Brown, wealthy socialite and Ruth DeWitt Bukater, the bride's mother and former wealthy heiress._

" _My daughter would not run off like this," said Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. "She loves Mr. Dawson with all her heart and would never simply abandon him."_

 _Several sources report that the couple met on Titanic, survived the sinking together, and were planning to settle down with their child after the wedding._

 _How a young woman of society fell for a lowly man of the streets…_

She stops reading, knowing the rest of the story would be speculation on her and Jack's affair. She felt happier and more hopeful knowing that Emma and Peter were looking for her. They didn't believe anything the papers said and they knew that Cal had probably abducted her, they just couldn't prove it. She understood why they hadn't stormed his house. There was the threat of Sybil and Rose's own safety that came into play. She knew that Cal would use her as a human shield and force the couple to leave. Also, Cal was a respected member of society and no one would believe that he'd be capable of all these terrible things… but they all knew the truth.

The next headline: _Mother Pleas for Daughter's Safe Return_

Rose tears up as she reads the heartfelt speech her mother gave to the paper, pleading for the kidnapper to release her unharmed.

" _She and I might not have always agreed completely, but she is my daughter, my greatest achievement in life. I don't care what others may think of her as being pregnant and everything, I love her and want her home. She loved everybody with her heart and soul and she does not deserve the fate she's been given. She is in a delicate state and deserves to see her loving fiancé come home free. I ask that anyone who has seen her to please call the police or for the said abductor to please return her home safely."_

Rose is shocked to see that her mother has even offered a reward for her daughter's safe return. This proved to the red-head without a shadow of a doubt that her mother truly loved her and wanted her home. She was concerned for her daughter's safety and wanted her to get married and be truly happy. It was nice to see that her mother accepted her for who she truly was and didn't care what anyone else thought of them or their family.

The final headline, today's paper reads: _Friends and Family Begin Searches_

The missing woman in the article reads about how pretty much everyone, including Wendy and Molly Brown, are gathering people to begin searching for her. She reads that they will do anything to bring her and her child home. She cries happily and puts her hand over her stomach; never had she felt so loved or cared for, despite her current circumstances. She now knew she could never believe Cal's lives that no one was searching for her, her family would spend the rest of their lives looking for her if it meant she was safe. She tosses the paper to the side and smiles contently to herself, happy that Riptide had given her some hope, a shining light in a world so dark right now.

She hears the cellar door open on the other end of the room. She sees Cal stick his head in. her heart begins to pound as he approaches her.

"What are you smiling about?" he growls, taking her face roughly in his hands. "I'm going to wipe that grin off your face. String her up Riptide!"

Despite what was coming, Rose kept the smile on her face, knowing she could take whatever was coming her way.


	81. Chapter 80: Search For Truth

Chapter 80: Search For Truth

"I can't believe he managed to send a note," Emma says, looking at the crinkled piece of paper. Jack grips the bars very tightly, his knuckles badly bruised and bloodied in some places after hitting the walls of his cell all night. Emma and Peter have come to visit him again, seeing if they can get something else to move this

"You have to get me out of here!" Jack insists. "He's going to do something to her and the baby."

"Jack we're doing the best we can I promise," Emma says, knowing how desperate he's become. They're all scared for Rose, but the only way to do this is the lawful way and to make sure that Cal doesn't do anything to anyone else. Sometimes she wishes that she and Peter could just do this themselves, barge into Cal's home and rescue Rose. It would be a lot faster.

"It's not enough!" he snaps.

Emma takes a step back, this is not the Jack Dawson she knows and loves. He's no longer the brave and happy man she and Peter knew, he's so hollow and angry, it's scary, to say the least. She grabs Peter's hand.

"I know Jack… I know."

"At least now we have proof that Cal did kidnap Rose, that should at least allow them to search his house and he's the bad guy, not you," Peter says optimistically.

The two then rush off to the captain's office, leaving an enraged Jack behind.

…

Emma puts the piece of paper down on the captain's desk.

"What is this supposed to be?" he asks, looking up from his paperwork.

"Proof that Caledon Hockley is not the man he says he is," the female lawyer says confidently. "That he's dangerous and that he's not the one who should be in jail."

The two lawyers wait anxiously for the man to read it. Once he's done, he looks up at them.

"How do you know that this is Mr. Hockley?"

"Because there was only one person on the _Titanic_ who called him Dawson and we should know, we were there. Also, Jack told us himself that Caledon Hockley says that he always wins.," Peter says firmly.

"And what makes you think that this note is not a fake."

Emma is ready to lose it. She makes sure that Peter still has her hand to hold her back if she gets too far.

"LISTEN!" she practically shouts. "This note is stating very clearly that this man knows that Jack is in jail, that there is a court case coming up and he will have to testify. He says that we won't be able to prove anything. He knew that Jack was supposed to be dead on the Titanic, and he states Rose by name. Worst of all, he's threatening the life of an innocent child. Now if that's not evidence, I'm going to a judge and I'm getting a search warrant. But if you are too blind to see that, then the unborn child's blood will be on your hands!"

She then steps back, satisfied with what she's said. She has tears running down her face there is a fire inside of her that is a raging inferno, she can't stand to see injustice like this. Her mind goes back to her father's speech of the injustice in the world and how angry it made him. This outburst proved that she inherited it from him. She was passionate about her work and it showed how much she cared about her family.

Peter gives her a gentle squeeze, while he was surprised by her angry voice, he was pleased that someone was finally saying something to this man. This had to be done, the police officer had to prove that he was actually competent and could protect the public. After the past few days, the couple both thought a lot less about law enforcement.

The captain looks at her with angry eyes. He is not used to being spoken like that, especially by a woman. He wants to arrest the girl then and there for talking back to an officer, but his mind still can't get rid of the line of the unborn child's blood on his hands. If an innocent woman and her unborn baby really were being threatened and he did nothing, he would have that on his conscience for the rest of his life. He opens his mouth to speak, but the woman once again speaks out.

"We're getting a search warrant from the courts," Emma says. "Then you will have to do your jobs."

…

The following morning, Caledon is in his office doing some important paperwork when the phone rings.

"Hello?" he asks.

"Mr. Hockley?"

"Yes, Riptide what is it?"

"It's the police sir, they are at the door of your father's mansion. They say that they have a court-ordered search warrant."

"What?!" the tycoon says, standing up so abruptly that he almost disconnects the phone.

"They will not say what it's for."

"Is everything as it should be?" the man asks sharply.

"Y-Yes sir,"

"Don't say anything to them until I get there," he says firmly. "And don't let them in the house."

"But sir…"

" _ **Don't**_!" the dark-haired man snaps angrily before putting down the earpiece and getting his coat and hat. He barges past his secretary without another words and heads down towards his car.

…

Joel orders all the police to spread out and to search the entire property. Once Jack's lawyer friends came into the station at 5 o'clock in the morning with the court ordered search warrant, he immediately volunteered to head the search. He knew he had to do something to help Jack. So far, he'd simply sat on his butt and done nothing but watch his friend suffer in agony. Joel can't imagine the kind of pain his friend must be going through, sitting in prison, helpless to find the woman he loves and his child. Joel would go to the ends of the earth if his wife and children were missing and nothing would stand in his way. He had to at least rescue Jack's fiancée if she really was being held against her will and make it up to his colleague and friend.

A squad of officers were dispatched to the Hockley manor, owned by Caledon Hockley Senior. The place was rather magnificent, a white mansion towering high above the other houses in the neighbourhood, a vast property that stretched for miles, fenced in by the gate and an army of staff who worked in the home. A butler had greeted them, Officer Joel showed him the warrant and then split the squadron up.

"You four go upstairs with me, the five search the grounds, the rest start searching the main level and the cellar if it has one."

His fellow officers nod and begin their search. The butler stands very still, very scared about what is happening. He knows he has to try to cover for his boss, just until the tycoon gets here. He knew what would happen if they did find Rose, he would be an accessory to kidnapping as well as many other dreadful crimes. He couldn't believe that the police had caught up with them so quickly, but at the same time, he felt a little relief, pleased that the woman may be rescued and her torture could stop. Riptide immediately rushes to the man in charge.

"C-Can I assist you sir?" he asks. He decides to cooperate to show the squadron that they have nothing to hide.

"You can tell me about each room if you want," Joel says. "But keep in mind, everyone in this house is a suspect at the moment."

"Might I ask what you're looking for?"

"You may not," Joel snaps as he ascends the staircase, the butler following behind.

Joel and his team begin searching every room in the house, looking for anything that might imply a kidnapping. Riptide tells the officers what each room was usually used for, chatting lot more than Joel would've liked. He could tell the butler had something to hide, but he's not sure what it is.

However, all the team finds are immaculately made beds, spotless shelves of books, shiny bathtubs, and sinks as well as pristinely kept portraits in the halls.

"And this is the master's study," the butler says, swallowing hard.

Immediately Joel goes behind the desk, while another officer begins looking through the bookshelves, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"The master usually doesn't allow people…"

"Well, he will today," Joel snaps angrily, getting fed up with the manservant's constant chatter. He begins going through each set of drawers carefully, turning over all the papers and folders, the bank notes, and pencils. The top drawer, however, is locked.

"Why is this locked?" Joel asks angrily.

"The master keeps private things in there,"

"Well, they're not private when an officer is here, open this right now!"

Riptide swallows heavily. He opens his mouth to protest when a flash of the bound and helpless Rose comes to his mind. She doesn't deserve to spend the rest of her life locked in a cellar. His master had to be stopped in some way.

"Where are the keys?!" the officer insists.

"He… he keeps it over here," the manservant goes over to the fireplace, he removes an ancient Ming vase from the mantle. Underneath is a key. The butler then hands it to the officer.

Joel shoves the key in and roughly opens the drawer. It isn't much inside, just expensive fountain pens and a few pads of paper and a revolver, likely used for protection. Joel looks up at the butler.

"Does this man have a permit for the gun?"

"I believe he does."

Joel wants the gun tested so he has another person on his team confiscate it for evidence. There is still no smoking gun, many men owned guns, but it wasn't proof of kidnapping.

However, something catches Joel's eye. Beside the desk is a wastepaper basket, which has a full pad of paper in it, which is very odd and quite wasteful. Joel picks up the item from the basket. The top page has been torn off and there's a very deep impression underneath. Joel had seen the threatening note and recognized the type of paper that was used. He quickly grabs the paper and puts it in his uniform pocket.

He then stands up and walks out with his fellow officer not caring that they'd left the place in disarray.

The door downstairs opens and heavy boots hit the hardwood floors. Riptide swallows, as he gazes downstairs to see his master standing in the hall, looking very angry.

"WHO IS IN CHARGE HERE?!" Hockley hollers into the house.

Joel descends the staircase to face this man.

"Officer Joel Anderson, we have a warrant to search your property." He holds out the court order.

Cal grabs it and stares at it so hard one might assume that he wants it to catch fire from his angry gaze. He wants to punch the man in the face, but he knows he can't arouse suspicion. He collects himself, takes a deep breath and forces a smile on his face.

"Well, hello then Officer Anderson, pardon my outburst, what can I help you with?"

"We're looking for this woman," Joel says, holding up the photograph of Rose. Cal does his best to not react while Riptide swallows a large lump in his throat. "Rose DeWitt Bukater. We are aware that she is your fiancée."

" _ **Was**_ my fiancée." Cal corrects. "I haven't seen her in months. What's happened to her?"

"You must have read the papers Mr. Hockley,"

"Oh of course I have, now I remember, Miss DeWitt Bukater has gone missing. Pardon me, sir, I believe the stress of the day's work has cluttered my mind. But what use is searching and destroying my house useful to you?"

Joel decides to hide the fact that they've found a note threatening Rose's life. "We must search every place she might've been in case she had run away."

"Well, she certainly has not been here, in fact, Rose has only set foot in this house twice before."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Positive."

"Well, we believe that Miss DeWitt Bukater and her unborn child's life might be in great danger."

"And what made you come to that conclusion?"

"That is official police business," Joel says firmly. He begins walking through the mansion, preparing to search the rest of the house. Cal and Riptide follow close behind. They find one officer in the kitchen. Several of the staff sit on crates nearby watching the action around them.

"Any luck?"

"No sir, but we found a door leading what appears to be down to the cellar but it's locked."

Joel turns to Cal and Riptide. "Do one of you gentlemen happen to have the key?"

The manservant swallows a large lump in his throat. He gives a quick sideways glance at his boss, who clears his throat loudly. Riptide fumbles with the keys in his pocket. Very slowly, he walks down the back stairs towards the cellar. He can feel Cal's hot breath on his neck, sending shivers up his spine. He knows his life was in danger at this very moment, but they could not arouse any suspicion. With a shaking hand, Riptide unlocks the door.

Joel and another officer push past the two men and enter the cold and dim cellar. The two take out their torches and search around. The cellar looks particularly barren with empty wine caskets, some dusty shelves that hold pickling jars and a few cured types of meat hanging from hooks. Joel comes upon a door, this thick metal door opens with ease, and he can see it's nothing but a big empty room.

"We hardly use the cellar anymore due to the invention of ice boxes," Cal explains. "The cook only keeps a few things down here."

Both guilty men's hearts are pounding, both have mounting fear inside of them. Joel is not quite buying their story if this place is hardly used, why is there a distinct lack of dust in the air. He then comes upon the second metal door and this one has a large lock on the door.

"Why is this one locked?" Joel demands.

"Because it's caved in sir," Cal lies. "Two winters ago, heavy snowfall weakened the structure of the cellar and it caved in on itself. My father has had it locked every since to prevent anyone from getting hurt."

"You mind if we take a look to be sure?"

"I wish I could Officer," Cal explains. "But my father has the only key and he carries it on his person at all times. Why that is I cannot be sure?"

"And there's no duplicate?"

"No sir."

Cal is lying very smoothly. He actually had the key, which he kept attached to his pocket watch at all times after what happened with Riptide. He only gave the manservant the key to serve Rose her meals, but then the butler had to give it right back to his master. It was unfortunate that Riptide could no longer save the poor woman from his master's sadistic beatings.

Joel puts his ear to the steel door for just a moment, seeing if he can hear anything. There is a small sound, it's almost like breathing, but it could very well be the wind. However, Jack's colleague was not buying the full story, if the father had locked the cellar two years ago, why did the lock have fresh fingerprints on it and why did it look new?

He knew he'd have to get heavy equipment if he was ever going to open it, but they didn't know, and he did not have enough evidence to force Mr. Hockley to open the door. There was some suspicion, but enough to make an arrest or accuse the millionaire of anything.

"All right then," Joel says. "That's all we can do right now, come on Jacobs."

The two officers walk back towards the stairs, Cal and Riptide let out their collective breaths. They follow the two men of the law upstairs but leave the door unlocked as to not arouse further suspicion.

"We'll be in touch if we need anything else Mr. Hockley," Joel says as he exits the house.

"Good luck with your search Officer," Cal says calmly. Inside he was angry, but also relieved that they did not find out the truth. There was some suspicion, but he could wave it off without further problem.

He and Riptide stand at the door as the group of officers gather and converge for a few moments before getting into their vehicles and leaving.

Once they're gone, Cal releases that anger.

…

Meanwhile, back at the station, Jack waits for his food to be delivered. His battered hands are shaking badly, his rage is so built up he just might explode. His mind keeps going to Rose, he needs to find her. She saved him when he was trapped in the sinking ship, now he needed to rescue her. The two of them saved each other in every way possible, but this time, more than one life was in jeopardy.

The warden brings Jack his food, leaving it on the small opening for such things to be done. Jack looks at the food in front of him, a leg of dry chicken and what looks like pudding, which required metal cutlery. It was just spoon though as a fork or a knife could be used as a weapon.

Jack sits in a cloud of anger when suddenly he remembers something. A trick that someone on the street had taught him. It was before he'd met Fabrizio, in a small neighbourhood in Italy, he came across a young street urchin, not unlike himself. He had been digging through the trash can and found a discarded spoon behind a villa. Jack, who was starving himself, watched in fascination as the boy sharpened the spoon on the wall and then bent it to the desired shape, he then used it to pick the lock of a small bakery in the villa. With some effort, the urchin succeeded and he slipped inside, grabbing a few pieces of bread and a pastry for himself. The boy paused, staring at Jack for a few moments and then ripped a piece off to give to the drifter. The boy then vanished, never to be seen again. The same method could be used here.

Jack's heart pounds as he realizes what he can do. He knows how wrong it is to this, he does want to be free on his own terms, but he should have never been thrown in jail in the first place. He begins scraping the end of the spoon against the wall, hesitating the whole time. He had faith that Emma and Peter could free him legally, but it wasn't fast enough. Rose's life was in grave danger and there wasn't enough time. As he continues to scrape at the wall, his stomach turns several times in agony.

…

Joel stood with the captain, taking the note that had been shoved onto the officer's desk yesterday. It had been crinkled in some places, but it was still intact. Joel took a pencil and began shading the top page of the pad, an old trick every officer should know. As he shaded, the impression began to show a message. Joel's heart pounded as he shaded until a clear message could be shown. He takes up the note and compares the two. He nearly shouts out in excitement, he then looks at the ripped part of the threatening note and laid it on top of the pad of paper, it fits perfectly.

"I believe we have a match Captain," Joel says.

The gruffer man frowns for a long moment before sighing. "Send a message to Mr. Hockley, we're coming back to his place and call up the lawyers. I want a ballistics test done on the gun you acquired."

…

Emma sits in one of the firm's meeting rooms, with her head in her hands. She can't help but feel so guilty for what happened with Jack yesterday. She could see the distress on his face, which mirrored her and Peter's. She stares down at yet another document.

Just then, Felicity, her secretary comes in. "Telephone Miss Carson."

"I can get it," Peter says gently, deciding to give his fiancée/wife a break.

He goes to answer it, leaving Emma with Mr. Jamieson.

Within a few moments, there is a loud shout of excitement. "YAHOO!"

Both lawyers jump up in surprise as Peter is now back in the room, looking very excited.

"What's going on?" Emma asks.

"They finally searched Cal's mansion."

"Did they find Rose?"

"No, but they found proof that he wrote the note, he's going to be questioned again and they're going to search once more,"

Emma's blue eyes brighten happily. She smiles something that felt like it had been awhile since she'd done so. She stands up happily and embraces Peter. She's practically crying in joy.

Finally, their words had been believed and finally, they could find Rose and Cal would get the justice he deserves.

"That is good news, we need to tell Jack!"

The couple frantically gets ready and hurry down the street towards the police station, Mr. Jamieson hurrying to catch up with them. However, Peter senses that something is off as they enter the station. All the desks are empty, it's still very loud, but the people are clustered to one side, where the holding cells were. He and Emma rush over frantically and they fight to the front. Peter can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

The entrance to holding cells is taped off, with many officers surrounding it.

"What's going on?" Emma asks, going up to the nearest officer.

"Jack Dawson has escaped."

 _A/N: Here you are Sam Fraser, just what you wanted. Thanks for the feedback, I may not do everything that you want, but it will be kind of close._


	82. Chapter 81: Into the Night

Chapter 81: Into the Night

Emma nearly faints when she hears this. Her mind begins to race, her breath catches in her throat and her entire body goes completely numb. Despite the apparent shock of this news, she shouldn't be that surprised. This was going to happen eventually. Jack had become so desperate to find Rose and their child that he'd given up on his friends and took justice into his own hands. He knew that the sweat and blood that both she and Peter had been putting into his case was not fast enough. As long as Cal was alive, there would be no way that Jack would be free and neither would Rose.

Her heart ached as she sat on the curb, just barely under the police tape surrounding the areas. She fights back tears and her hands shake in so much anxiety and anger. If only Jack could have waited a few minutes more… the police officers had the evidence to bring Cal into the station and likely force him to release Rose, but instead, he'd made it ten times worse. No doubt the police would be searching for him, calling him an escaped convict and maybe even insane to be able to evade police custody. Her eyes burn until she finally lets the tears come. Peter sits down next to her and puts his arm around her quivering shoulders.

"W… We failed him," she whimpers.

Peter opens his mouth to deny it, but his "wife" had spoken the truth. They hadn't worked fast enough and with Rose's life in danger, it wasn't enough for their best friend. It wasn't their fault, with a corrupt judge and police officers who wouldn't take her seriously because she of her gender, they had basically shot themselves in the foot and brought this on themselves. He just wished that Jack hadn't been so impulsive, no doubt he's in even more trouble now than ever before and Cal could still use this to his advantage.

Peter swallows the lump in his throat and pulls Emma into a hug.

"We have to find him before…" she begins. She sniffs and wipes the tears away.

"Excuse me, sir," an officer says coming up to them. "But we'll have to ask you and your wife to leave, this is an active crime scene."

"But we're the escapee's lawyers," Peter says firmly.

"Good, then you are stuck with the job on how to defend an escaped convict," the man smirks.

Emma just gives the man a death glare. Both shift to the opposite side of the street, sitting on a bench, trying to collect themselves.

"How could he be so stupid?!" she snarls angrily. It feels as if Jack had betrayed their trust, taking matters into his own hand. He'd stomped on their hearts and stretched their friendship very thinly.

Peter sighs and hugs her. "We weren't doing enough so he decided to do it himself."

"But it's ten times worse now," she whined. "He'll be in jail so much longer now…"

She swallows, thinking that he may not even be able to see the birth of his child if he's behind bars. Plus, this makes him look even guiltier.

"I know…" Peter says.

Suddenly, a thought comes to mind. "Do you think he might have gone back to the house?"

Emma's eyes go wide, and she looks at him with fear and hope in her eyes. Her face suddenly falls. "And what if he is there? What can we do?! Convince him to come back to jail?"

"I don't know, but if he does manage to get out of the city, it's just going to keep getting worse."

She knows he's right, they must take that chance in order to save their friend from further imprisonment. The two watch the chaos unfolding at the station, reporters have now shown up and are flocking all the officers for details. Flashbulbs are going off and voices fill the night air with relentless chatter.

"They'll be busy for awhile anyway," she mutters, not actually feeling very sorry for the dimwits of the law.

The couple takes the bus home, traveling with the hope in their hearts that they can catch Jack before he gets himself or Rose killed. Both of their minds race, how did their lives become so chaotic? Was it because they met the two lovers at that party? Would everything be peaceful at this moment if they hadn't met Rose and Jack? They would probably be living a relatively normal life, likely happily married and Emma might even be pregnant by now. But instead, they're chasing after their escaped friend and trying to rescue their kidnapped one.

The thing is, life might have been peaceful, but very sad. No doubt Emma would still be in a deep depression if they hadn't gone to that party to lift her spirits. They wouldn't have made friends that they could trust, they wouldn't have been married on the bow and felt so very happy. And was it possible that because of the confrontation with Cal, Peter could have gone down with the ship and likely perished? Leaving Emma with only Sybil and nothing left to truly live for. It could have been much, much worse… They also wouldn't have the lifelong friends they had made to fill the void in their lives. Despite all the chaos that came with Jack and Rose, nothing could replace the friendship they had and even now in this crisis, they couldn't let the two of them down.

The couple race up the front porch of the home. The light is still on as Ruth and Molly were still staying with them. Peter's parents and siblings were now at Holly and Carl's place to make the place feel less crowded, while Wendy and Tommy had gone back to their apartment, no doubt Wendy would be writing about the dramatic wedding for her book.

They come in to see Ruth with the look of absolute sorry on her face. She looked positively heartbroken. Her sad green eyes look into theirs and she begins to weep. Molly Brown looks at the duo, rocking an agitated Sybil, showing a similar expression. She looks very sad and slightly shell-shocked as well.

Emma opens her mouth to speak when Ruth cuts her off.

"He just left…" she says quietly.

The young girl's eyes go wide, Peter's soon following. He rushes out the door to the side of the house. His heart drops like a stone into his stomach. Emma tails her fiancé and stares on in horror and sadness as reality hits them like a rock.

"N-No…" she gasps. Tears fall from her eyes.

"It's gone," Peter whimpers, dropping to his knees in despair.

The car was gone, the treads of the tires still fresh in the gravel. Jack had taken their care and fled for the horizon…

An escaped convict disappears into the night.

No doubt the police will be knocking on their door in the morning, invading their home and dragging all of them to the station for questioning. And the reporters swarming their front porch, wanting all the details and basically destroying their last piece of sanity. Ruining their sanctuary

What a great way to celebrate Sybil's first birthday!

…

 _(Imagine Nina Simone's I Shall be Released playing in the background)_

Meanwhile, a 1910 Ford races through the city streets, a determined Jack Dawson behind the wheel. His blue eyes filled with fortitude and strength of the mind. He was no longer that caged bird, he wasn't going to rely on anyone to save him. Rose may have rescued him on the ship, now it was his turn to rescue her.

The sun is just beginning to rise as the car pulls out of the awakening city.

 _A/N: Please thank Sam Fraser for this scene, I really liked it and had to use it. Sam, you are welcome to add more input in the future. Also, this is responding to Far-No, what's up and what would you like to say. Please review. Also, thank you to Acroterion, I really like your advice and I'll try to use it more and more in the future._


	83. Chapter 82: I Can Save Her

Chapter 82: "I Can Save Her…"

"How… How…" Emma squeaks in utter sadness. "How could he?"

Molly, Ruth, Holly, Carl, Peter, and Emma, with Sybil sleeping in her arms, all sit in the family room together. Well, five out of the six are sitting, Emma paces back and forth in front of the fireplace with her sister sleeping on her shoulder. Holly and Carl were dressed in their night clothes and looked especially confused to come downstairs to see Emma was in tears and Peter looking very flustered. Two cups of tea lay, now very cold as the two older women were trying to soothe their frazzled nerves, Molly offering much comfort to a distraught Ruth.

Considering it was just becoming morning outside and Sybil was technically one today, the elder sister wanted to be the first person the toddler saw when she awoke. Shower the little one with kisses and birthday wishes. Additionally, the back and forth rhythm that Emma was making was soothing for the birthday girl.

Despite what a happy occasion this should be, worry, anger, and confusion gripped all their minds. The cloak of darkness holding them all in its grasp, a darkness in which Jack Dawson had vanished, likely in pursuit of Caledon Hockley and to rescue Rose DeWitt Bukater. A cold chilly wind pushes at the dimly lit windows and a fire is slowly dying as rosy morning light peeks into the home.

"Emma, darling you're going to wear a hole in the floor," Molly Brown says firmly. "And get your sister motion sick."

"I can't help it!" the girl snaps angrily. She only stops once to say this and then goes back to pacing.

"Emma, you need to calm down," Holly says.

"Calm down! Jack has basically just made himself look guiltier than ever before! There's no way in hell that he's going to be able to see his child's birth now."

"Emma, such language," Ruth snaps. The elderly woman was not thrilled that this seemingly strong and level-headed girl was acting so childish.

"You have no right to criticize me! Why didn't you try and stop him?!"

Peter turns to the four people who were present for Jack's apparent run for the hills. Holly and Carl had been basically staying over at the house to help with the search, Thomas sleeping on a cot in their guest room. They had been upstairs sleeping the whole time, while Ruth and Molly were still awake as they were most night, waiting for any kind of news about Rose.

A lump appears in Ruth's throat and fresh tears form in her eyes. She does her best to remain composed, having had much practice in high-class society, but the sheer stress of the past week causes her to begin to cry. Carl offers the frail woman a handkerchief and Molly shifts unhappily, continuing to glare at the fierce young girl.

"Y-You don't think I tried?"

"Obviously, you didn't do a very good job!" Emma barks.

Sybil begins to stir in her arms, and Emma, not wanting to disturb her sister any further hands the one-year-old to Holly.

"Please take her upstairs," the older sister growls.

Holly, wanting to try and keep the peace in the home and make a very upset Emma happy, does so without question. Once they are out of earshot, the young woman turns back to Ruth.

"The man is as stubborn as my daughter. Nothing we could've said would have made a difference."

"And he's basically sentenced himself to more jail time."

"Well you weren't exactly doing a good job at bailing him out," Ruth snaps. "Molly could've paid the bail and this would've been all over, but no, you had to prove that you were a capable lawyer by dragging this out. If you had spent your time helping with the searches, Rose would've been found by now!"

Emma's hands clench into fists. Her nostrils flare up and she glares very angrily at Ruth DeWitt Bukater.

"HOW DARE YOU! I LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER MORE THAN YOU LOVE HER. SHE'S MY BEST FRIEND, MY SISTER AND YOU DON'T THINK I WANT HER FOUND. I AM DOING THE BEST I CAN GOD DAMMIT!"

Ruth is very angry too and fires back. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE YOUR CHILD GO MISSING!"

"DON'T I? I SEEM TO RECALL THE MAN YOU WANTED ROSE TO MARRY ABDUCTED MY BABY SISTER WHILE WE WERE ON A SINKING SHIP AND HE THREATENED TO KILL HER UNLESS ROSE WENT WITH HIM!"

Emma's voice is hoarse now. She can't take it anymore, she turns away before this gets any worse. She finds the need to smash something, she grabs something, a picture frame from the mantle of the fireplace and chucks it across the room. It smashes on the floor. At that moment, Peter puts his foot down, he gets up and tries to grab Emma's arms.

She fights him. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screams.

"STOP IT EMMA!" Peter yells back, wrestling her arms to her side.

Emma is so full of anger that she's about to burst. The pressure in her head feels like it's going to burst. Tears stream down her face as she continues to fight her "husband." It's like an immature tantrum and impassioned one…

"Emma stop it!" Peter snarls. He hates having to manhandle her like this, but her emotions are getting the best of her. This was not the woman he knew and loved, she was now buried under an angry and grieving façade. She wasn't the sweet, loving woman he cared for… well, she was, and it was because of this fierce love and devotion that she was so angry. She loved Jack and Rose so much, it was tearing her apart that she couldn't help them.

Peter pulls her into his arms and holds her tightly. She resists at first, continuing to cry, but he relents. She breaks down into tears or sorrow and guilt. Her body feels broken, that it's finally the end, she's done being strong and now she just wants to cry. She's been through so much, trying to save her friend, trying to free another, trying to prove that the innocent were guilty, showing the world that she was a good lawyer, being a good mother to her sister, wanting to be married, waiting for all of this to be over.

She weeps very hard and Peter does the same, holding her and feeling all his strength drain out of him. He hated to see her like this, but Emma thought that she had to protect everyone and then she had to do everything, but it seems that she'd forgotten that he was there, that she wasn't alone and that he could help her. She had a support system, a family that wanted to be there for her, it's just not the one she was used to.

The couple stands at the fireplace for a long time, the rest of room in quiet contemplation as well. The sun begins to rise behind the houses across the street as a new day broke… a day meant to be one of celebration and joy, but Emma knew deep down, within another month would be the anniversary of her mother's death and six months after that her father's and then a month after that, the near-death experience on a sinking ship. Why was her life so complicated and seemingly filled with death? Why couldn't she be like other girls her age, happy, free, in love…? All the things that felt normal.

Once the angry seas have calmed, the couple breaks from their embrace and Emma turns to Ruth.

"I'm so sorry for yelling at you Ruth, I'm just so upset."

"I know child I know, I can understand this must be as hard for you as it is for me."

"I just wish Jack didn't make it worse by doing this."

"I see that you are angry with Jack for escaping and taking matters into his own hands," Holly says gently.

"Yes, of course," Emma sighs heavily.

Holly nods gently. Carl looks at the couple for a long moment then replies, "I would have done the same thing,"

The others look at him and he nods. "If it were Holly or Thomas in the hands of a madman, not even an exploding bomb or a solid brick wall could have gotten in my way…."

Molly swallows a bit. "Maybe he made the right choice," a tiny smile forming on her face.

"Who knows what Mr. Hockley is doing to Rose right now. Jack could be saving her just in time. From what you've said about him, this is a man who knows how to fight," Holly says with some confidence, trying to stay optimistic.

"If so, he's taking an incredible chance with his life," Carl says.

"If so, it's the best chance we have right now," Molly says. "The police are doing nothing.

"Oh, really?", Emma says irritation rising in her voice again. "Well, Jack has no right to risk his life."

"His fiancé's being held captive", Carl interjects.

She drew in a deep breath. "I understand but I just pray he knows what's he doing..."

"His name will be cleared, if he pulls it off," Molly says.

"Or perhaps, he will make himself look even more like a criminal", Emma puts in flatly. She rubs her temples and sits down on the couch, Peter joining her and wrapping his arms around her.

"How did it even happen?" he asks, wanting more context.

Ruth and Molly look at each other for a long moment.

…

 _Flashback, what happened two hours earlier..._

"What type of tea do you want Ruth?" Molly asks. She searches the cupboards for two fresh cups.

"Just Earl Grey please," the tired mother says with a deep sigh.

Ruth felt as if someone had ripped out her heart and stomped on it. Her mind would not let her sleep as she worried day and night about her daughter. It had been like when Rose had run off the first time, she barely slept or ate, questions of all kinds swirled in her head and the worst-case scenarios of prostitution or death haunted her every waking moment. She blamed others, she blamed Cal, she blamed herself, but at least once her daughter had written that letter to reassure her, while there were still many questions, Rose had done it of her own free will. And she was also unaware of Cal's true anger and what he was capable of… now she feared for her daughter and unborn grandchild's life. No doubt Mr. Hockley had no moral compass and would do anything to lash out at Jack Dawson.

Now, the poor man that she was expecting to become her son-in-law was behind bars, for crimes he did not commit. Ruth desperately wished that the couple had least been able to kiss. She could not believe that she once hated the man and looked down on him, but since the time on the ship, seeing many innocent people perish, living amongst the working class, seeing what real love looked like and finding new love herself, that perspective had changed drastically. But now it felt that she was back where she started, fearing for her daughter's safety.

The kettle on the stove begins to whistle and Molly goes about pouring the water when she hears something… She stops and puts it down.

It sounds like thumping. At first, she thinks it might be little Thomas wandering to the lavatory or Carl getting a glass of water, but it was different. Very different.

"Did you hear that?"

Ruth remains silent and listens. Sure enough, the sound seemed to have been coming from the back room.

Thinking there might be an intruder, Molly grabs a nearby frying pan and Ruth arms herself with a fork. The two women slowly go down the hallway, hearing as the sounds get louder and louder as they get closer and closer. Both of their hearts are pounding loudly, neither had ever confronted a prowler or a burglar before, but with Carl upstairs asleep and young children in the house, they knew they had to protect the home.

Molly signals for Ruth to stay behind her as she reaches the back room, one that led out into where the laundry was done. Her hand goes to the door, which was slightly ajar, the light from the staircase casting sharp shadows around them. The heiress pushes the door open slowly and finds the light switch, illuminating the room.

"God almighty Jack Dawson!" Molly gasps, not completely able to believe her eyes.

Ruth peers around her friend's shoulder to see a dirty and very thin Jack Dawson, dressed in prison clothing climbing through the back window.

"What are you doing here?" Molly demands angrily.

Jack sighs heavily. He knows that neither women would understand nor excuse what he had done, but Rose needed him, now more than ever. He doesn't say anything and just keeps his eyes downcast.

"How did you…" Ruth began.

Both of their eyes go wide with the realization. Jack takes their moment of hesitation to push past the women and go upstairs. He had to get out of this clothing, it was heavy, ugly, and itched. He knows he needs to hurry. He finds his and Rose's room and dumps the content of a drawer on the untouched bed. His mind fills with the happy quiet moments that he and Rose shared here. The time's he'd sing to the baby, how he'd hold Rose every morning and the times she would read, and he would draw by the light of the lamp. His heart pounds in his ears and his mind filled with rage again, thinking about Cal had done and was likely doing to her. His thoughts cloud over with angry ones as he changes quickly and then goes downstairs.

Ruth and Molly catch him in the front hall.

"Where in the hell do you think you're going?" Molly snaps.

Jack doesn't answer, is searching the draw by the door for Peter and Emma's keys to the car.

Fed up Molly forces him to turn around.

"Jack Dawson, you tell us what happened, why you are here and what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Jack looks at Molly for a long moment and then at Ruth. It had been awhile since he'd seen them, but he was happy to catch a glimpse. He knew he couldn't talk to them because of what they'd say.

"I'm going to find Rose," he says simply.

"LIKE HELL YOU ARE!" Molly snaps, she attempts to grab the boy's arm, but Jack remains out of reach. He's too fast is out the door before anything else can happen.

"If you really did…" Ruth begins.

"Jack this is a death sentence!" Molly shouts, running after him. "You're just making it worse by going after Hockley!"

Jack snaps out of his angry mood. His mind clears only briefly, thinking of the consequences of what he'd done and what he was going to do. But his mind keeps going back to that letter and he thinks of Rose and their child, she was at the madman's mercy.

"Jack, please let the police handle this," Molly begs.

"The police have done nothing but accuse me of all this horse shit!" he hisses.

"Cal will just hurt Rose if you even get near him."

"I DON'T CARE!" Jack snaps back. His eyes are filled with tears with his hand is on the door of the car, but Molly is more than ready to bash his head with the frying pan to knock some sense into him. However, a gentle hand reaches out to stop the heiress.

"Ruth…" she protests.

"He's right Margret," the DeWitt Bukater woman murmurs.

"But the police…"

"I'll accept the consequences," Jack says quietly. "I know what I'm doing Molly. I've handled Cal before and he's not going to stop. Whether I'm in jail or not, he's just going to keep going. Even the evidence is found and given to the police, who knows what Cal will do with Rose? It will be probably too late."

Molly opens her mouth to speak, but she closes it again.

Jack takes in another deep breath says in a quiet but determined voice, "I can save Rose before it's too late. I can do this."

Ruth looks into the man's blue eyes and sees the determination and love that she saw in Rose's eyes when she ran away from the lifeboat to rescue him. Obviously, her quest had not been in vain and… now he was returning the favour. She sighs and says in a moving and accepting voice, "You're right"

Jack turns and goes over to Ruth and hugs her tightly. The older woman embraces the intimate moment, knowing with much confidence that Jack was the right man for Rose and no matter what happened, he would fight to his very last breath to save her.

Molly wants to do something, anything that didn't make this scene look like a crime novel, but she knew Jack and she knew he'd do anything to save Rose. If anyone can make things right, it was him. He was a good man, and she knew nothing she could say would change his mind.

Jack fights back tears as he hugs Molly and then turns back to the car. "Tell Emma and Peter I'm sorry. And tell them not to give up and follow after me before the police catch up first."

"We will," Ruth says.

Jack climbs behind the wheel of the car and starts it up. He takes one last look at the place he and Rose called home before pulling out of the driveway and down the street.

…

"And he was gone," Ruth finishes with a saddened sigh.

Emma and Peter look at one another, wishing beyond all measure that they could've been there, even if it was just to help Jack save Rose or just to say goodbye. They knew they couldn't give up on their friends, but how could they tell the police about this, especially since Ruth and Molly and deliberately let Jack, a fugitive, go? Fear and dread filled their bodies.

Everyone sits in quiet silence as the morning light shines through the windows. Pretty soon the youngest ones would be awake and blissfully unaware of what had happened. Something they all envied.

Eventually, Emma gets up and goes upstairs to her sister's room. She hears the happy gurgles of the birthday girl. She forces herself to smile and then leans into the crib to scoop up her sister.

Sybil squeals in delight and her big sister's smile becomes more natural. Emma gives Sybil a million kisses, wanting the world to just stop, that all the evil could vanish, so her sister could have a good birthday, one filled with joy and love.

"Happy Birthday Sybbie."

 _A/N: Thanks to Sam Fraser and Acroterion for helping me with this chapter. To answer Far-No's question, I'd rather not take your challenge because I'd like the story to end on my terms. Thank you, everyone, for the reviews, they really make my day._


	84. Chapter 83: Circus of Surprises

Chapter 83: Circus of Surprises

Within several hours, Emma brings Sybil downstairs. She finds Holly making a special breakfast for the birthday girl, soft pancakes for the teething toddler. To everyone's surprise, Ruth De Witt Bukater is helping by squeezing oranges to make fresh juice, while Molly manages the coffee and tea.

"Where's Peter and Carl?" Emma asks.

"Peter's in the den talking to Mr. Jamieson and Carl went to get a newspaper."

Emma sits her sister in the high chair, takes a few slices of orange from Ruth, cuts them into small pieces and puts them on her sister's tray. She then goes to join Peter, knowing this will be all about Jack.

"Yes, he did," Peter says into the mouthpiece. "He took the car."

Emma sits at her father's desk, waiting patiently for the conversation to finish so she can talk to her fiancé.

"We don't doubt that the police will be here soon," he continues, brushing some blonde hair out of his face. "Yes, we know they're going to want to interview us… We'll do our best I assure you… We're not sure what he was thinking, just as the tables were turning in our favour. Yes…yes…yes…yes…yes… absolutely not… no. Thank you, sir, we'll tell her." He then puts the earpiece back on the hook and looks at Emma.

"The Jamieson family wish Sybil a happy birthday," he says, forcing a meek smile. Emma returns the gesture.

"What did he say?"

"It's already in the newspapers."

"Really?" she asks in disbelief. "I didn't think the news would travel this fast."

"Well it does, apparently it's on the front page and we should expect reporters at our doorstep and in our yard within a few more hours."

"As well as the police," she sighs sadly.

Peter merely nods.

"I guess… we'd better be as honest as we can," Emma mutters. She puts her head in her hands and lets the tears fall again. Everything about this was just awful. If anything, it was a total disaster. This is not how she wanted her sister's first birthday to go. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, filled with love and laughter; creating happy new memories and letting Sybil know that she was loved. Fulfilling that promise to herself that the toddler would have as normal of a childhood as she could. She would then go back to work and take the day off two weeks later to properly mourn her mother. Part of her wishes that they hadn't buried her parents overseas, instead of keeping them close, so she could visit them every so often. Of course, there were their grave markers in the New York Cemetery, but their ashes had been scattered in Ireland, to honour her father's wishes and the main reason behind their trip home on the infamous _Titanic_.

Peter wraps his arms around her and kisses the side of her head.

"It'll be okay," he whispers. "We can always celebrate it after everything is cleared up."

"What makes you think it will ever be cleared up?" she whispers.

The two of them embrace and remain in silence until the dreaded heavy knocking on the door. Summoning all their courage, they exit Andrew Carson's office and go to the door.

Several officers stand there as Holly talks to them, keeping herself slightly hidden behind the door. The chief locks eyes with the couple and smirks ever so slightly as if he's happy to finally be able to put the spunky Emma in her place.

"Everyone in this house must come with me to the station and this house is now a crime scene."

Emma rushes over and picks up her sister, who was nibbling on a fresh pancake. Sybil looks at her with wide blue eyes, there is much confusion and disdain of being taken from her meal on her face but her elder sister presses the tiny girl against her chest, as if to protect her from what was to come.

…

"Do you have someone who can solidify this alibi?" the lead officer asks.

Emma sits the same interrogation room that she and Peter had sat in when they were working with Jack, only this time she's on the other side of it, but fortunately not handcuffed to it.

"Yes, my fiancé, Peter Whitman, my head lawyer, Mr. Richard Jamieson and my secretary, Felicity Arthurs can back up my claims."

"And you're sure you had absolutely no idea that Mr. Dawson was planning to escape."

"No. Never would I ever say that to him. I am a woman of the law, and like you, I encourage all of my clients to follow it. In fact, I was coming to the office to tell Mr. Dawson the news about Mr. Hockley."

The policeman frowns, wanting to poke holes in the girl's story, but it was difficult considering she knew how to work interrogations better than anyone. She remains firm a steadfast in her story.

"Why would I try and help my client escape from prison when I was trying to get him out the legal way?" she asks in frustration. "You know that the law is like any other business and if something bad happens, it looks bad on you as well as my firm, so tell me, why would I want him to escape?"

"I'm asking the questions around here," the man hisses in a gruff voice.

Emma folds her arms in annoyance and keeps herself poised and professional.

"But Mr. Dawson was living in your house was he not?"

"Yes, he and Miss DeWitt Bukater were living with us."

"What purpose does providing room and bored for an engaged couple for free, serve you?"

It takes all her strength not to roll her eyes at this clueless man. "Because they are my friends and it was a safe place to live and avoid Mr. Caledon Hockley."

"Don't bring another man into this. Were you close with Mr. Dawson?"

"He was my best male friend. Why does this matter?"

"Because if he is indeed your 'best friend' as you claim, you could very well have helped him plan some sort of escape. According to the records, you and your co-lawyer were having a private meeting with him in his cell block right before he vanished."

Emma cannot believe this. She grinds her teeth together and lets out an angry huff. If Jack had just stayed put, Cal would be the one in this room being interrogated, the officers would be able to poke holes in his story and force him to reveal where Rose was being kept. Jack would've been cleared of all charges, Rose rescued, and they could all celebrate Sybil's birthday properly.

"Maybe if you told me the truth, you wouldn't be so frustrated right now."

"Fine, you want the truth? Jack and I did not part on the best terms. The last we spoke to him was two days ago, in the morning, which is supervised by your officers I might add. We were discussing the threatening note that somehow was delivered to him with his food. He angrily begged us to get him out, I told him we were doing the best we could, he yelled that it wasn't enough. I was left speechless and then Peter and I left to confront _**your**_ chief with the new evidence. You should ask him to clarify this and then we went to my office for the rest of the day and we were there all the next day until _**your**_ station called us about the new evidence against Caledon Hockley and we were going to tell our client about it when we found out he escaped. So why are you standing there and accuse me of helping Jack Dawson escape when he was mad at us when we left?"

She sits back in satisfaction, anger, and some guilt. She wished beyond everything that she and Jack had left on better terms. They were friends, after all, best friends, in fact, Emma would entrust her life and Sybil's life with Jack and no doubt he would say the same unless… unless he hated her and Peter now, for not doing what they could to save Rose. They were trying to save him… was that so wrong?

"But he did take your car, didn't he?"

The poor excuse for an interrogation lasts another hour at least before someone finally tells this officer to back off, Emma kept her story consistent the entire time and never changed a single detail. She knew how to make a statement that could free her if she was ever arrested or accused of these convoluted crimes. She'd seen her father catch a witness in one single detail of their statement, which ended up sealing their fate for the jury. She knew the system like the back of her hand, and she never wavered.

When she was finally free to leave the room, but not the station, she goes out to see Holly sitting on one of the benches with Sybil in her lap. The woman seems to be playing with the toddler, counting her fingers and doing other hand games. Her eyes go up to her would-be sister in law.

"How did it go?" the mother asked.

"How do you think it went? They accused me of nothing, but absolute nonsense. They don't have a prayer to convict us of anything. I kept my story the same and that's all there is to it. I kept telling them they are interrogating the wrong people, but of course, they didn't listen."

"Should I be worried?"

"Not if you tell them the truth," Emma says firmly.

"She's been missing you," Holly says gently, indicating the one-year-old. Sybil looks up with the lively blue eyes and smiles widely. She begins babbling and reaches her hands out for her big sister to pick her up. Emma happily obliges, swinging her sister into the air and giving her many kisses, to which the birthday girl squeals in unequivocal delight.

"One kiss to plant the seed, and two kisses to help it grow," she says happily, tearing up slightly. That was the tradition her parents used to do all the time, one kiss for every year she'd been alive and an extra one to carry over to the next year. She knew that her mother and father would be happy that she carried on this tradition and Sybil didn't mind in the least.

"I wish I could take her home, but that's an alleged crime scene now," she says. "Plus, they probably won't let us leave anyways."

"I don't think you can leave," Holly says.

"What do you mean?"

"Holly Gregson," officer calls.

"You go in," Emma says.

"Just go look outside and you'll see what I mean," the quiet mother says before going into the interrogation room.

The young girl takes her sister down the stairs to the first level of the building and walks through the busy police station. She stops at one of the windows and is nearly blinded. She holds Sybil's head to her should prevent her sister from meeting a similar irritating fate.

Outside on the streets are hundreds and hundreds of reporters. Flashbulbs are going off every few seconds and the pops of gunpowder echo through the window. Not that you could hear the pops considering all the shouting and talking the people are doing. They are taking pictures of the building as if it will give them a story. She sees several officers on the street, keeping the crazy crowd back in order to prevent a riot breaking out in the station. A man spies Emma and Sybil through the window, he shouts and points and suddenly the attention shifts to the two Carson sisters. They hurry towards the window, thank goodness, the station is much higher than they can reach. They start shoving microphones up as if Emma is going to talk to them through the glass. She glares at them before turning and disappearing into the dimly lit building. She bounces her sister on her hip when she notices a discarded newspaper on an empty desk.

She finally believes what Peter had told her this morning. Mr. Jamieson was not exaggerating. Therein fully glory is the empty cell that once held Jack Dawson. The title reads:

 _ **Charged Felon and Ravager escapes New York City Police**_

She couldn't believe how quickly the news had spread. She takes the paper back upstairs and sits with Sybil in her lap to read it.

Most of what the paper is saying is absolute garbage composed of exaggerations, lies, and most likely gossip. They were calling Jack insane, saying he could escape from Alcatraz with these kinds of skills, he's broken out to ravage more women and that people should lock their doors at night. She becomes so very angry at this slanderous rag that once she'd through reading it, she lets Sybil rip it up and play with the pieces however she pleases.

She's so angry at the reporters, making up such lies about Jack, Rose, her law firm and so on. The one thing they did get right was the incompetence of the police force. She wants to go out there and set the record straight for these piranhas, willing to make up anything and everything to sell papers. However, her father had told her that only speak to the media when it was absolutely necessary, sometimes it could work in their favour, but most of the time it could destroy a case as well as a firm's reputation. It would also paint the police force in a bad light and they will pretty much do whatever the public wants. She didn't desire to be associated with this circus, but…

Suddenly, I thought manifests in her head. Maybe she would have to join this circus if it would get the police on the right track.

She takes Sybil and goes down to Jack's office. She'd only visited it a handful of times, but all she needed was a pencil and paper. It was unlocked, and her heart grew heavy looking at the amount of dust that had accumulated in the room since Jack had been housed in another part of the station. It was dark and a mess, which would be expected of an artist's "studio." She grabs a couple pages of paper when she notices a leather-bound portfolio laying on top of the desk. She knew he had two of them, one for here and one at home, which was still untouched in his and Rose's bedroom.

She picks it up and opens it to one of the first pages. In it, is a charcoal drawing of Jack and Rose hugging and dancing together. She can't help but smile and tear up. Jack had captured the movement of the two of them beautifully; the strong curves of Rose's hips, the waviness of his own hair as the redhead's curls and the swirling motion of her dress. Her mind goes back to the conversation on the ship, where she and Jack compared sketches and he said how he preferred to capture things in the moment, with people posing, while she preferred movement and landscapes. She sniffles a little bit and Sybil looks at the picture too, memorized by it too.

Emma takes the portfolio back to the benches outside of the interrogation rooms and looks through the drawings.

There's one that makes her heart drop and let the tears flow freely. It's a sketch of her and Sybil together, Sybil's head resting under her sister's chin, her holding her sister tightly, and both of them looking at their imaginary artist. She cannot believe that Jack drew this completely from memory, being able to capture the softness of Sybil's eyes, the roundness of her cheeks and the sharpness of her own heart-shaped face. It truly is a work of art and on the back, it reads.

 _Sybil and Sister,_

 _November 6th, 1912._

Emma does her best to wipe away the tears. Today was that day marked on the back. He had drawn this for the little girl's birthday, most likely so that it could be framed and hung in her room. It truly was a work of art and it hurt her to know that he wasn't going to be able to give it to her properly. She holds the picture up for Sybil to see.

"That's Sybbie," Emma says softly. "And that's Emmy…"

 _I guess she does get a birthday gift after all…_

Emma felt unbelievably guilty. With all the wedding planning and now the jail stuff, she had forgotten to get Sybil a present for her birthday. She wanted to get her sister something extra special and she knew her father, as he was in his last month of life, had wrapped his and her mother's gifts, not to be opened until the little one was a year old. She cries a little bit harder and kisses her sister's head.

"I sorry your birthday has to be spent this way," she murmurs.

The tot's blue eyes scan the picture with much fascination, but soon her childlike curiosity got the better of her and she tried to grab it. The bigger sister puts it away before it gets wrecked.

"Sorry I ruined the surprise, Jack," she whispers.

…

As the day begins to fade into evening, Peter and Emma are now talking to Mr. Jamieson, discussing Miss Carson's plan. She'd written it on the pieces of paper, which were also covered with sketches of her own. She missed drawing and her life had been so busy that she hadn't been given a chance to go back to it. So to pass the time, with her sister she drew whatever came to mind.

"It's very risky," Mr. Jamieson says with a frown.

"It is, but what other choice do we have. Yes, Jack is on the run, but he's not the one they should be chasing." She swallows hard.

"It's just crazy enough to work," Peter says. "Besides, the police will do anything the public says."

After discussing it with the police officers, they made a deal with the hoards of reporters to go away and stop disturbing the peace if they were given a story. To Emma, a true story. They set-up a make-shift podium for the three lawyers to stand at. At first, it seemed like Mr. Jamieson was going to speak, but he let Emma stand up and prove herself as the capable lawyer she was.

She stood in front of the flashing cameras, many microphones were up near the podium as this press conference began.

"My name is Emma Carson, partner, and owner of Carson Law Firm. All three of us are speaking on behalf of Jack Andrew Dawson, the young man who escaped last night. As his lawyer and a very close friend I can tell you with full confidence that almost everything that you have heard about him and fiancée Rose DeWitt Bukater is false…"

Emma then goes on to explain the whole story behind the charges, how Jack is a person of strong morality and how he was wrongfully accused of all his crimes. After her explanation, she allowed a few questions.

"Are you excusing his actions for escaping police custody?" a male reporter asks.

"Not at all. I do not condone his actions, although I cannot blame him for it, considering how much danger his fiancée is in?"

"How much danger? How can you prove that Mr. Hockley is a dangerous man, as you said?"

"My partner and fiancé here cannot walk properly anymore because of the bullet wound in his leg. I have lost feeling in my left arm due to another bullet from Mr. Hockley's gun severing one of my nerves."

"How can you be sure that he was the one who fired it?"

"Because if I am not mistaken, he still has it."

"What made you take on this case?"

"Because I trust Jack Dawson with my life and if I was in trouble, I have no doubt that he would be doing whatever he could to help me. Any more questions?"

…

Sybil rests on her sister's shoulder as the tired group heads back to their home, which has been cleared as a crime scene. Ruth and Molly are especially tired considering they were interrogated the most because they actually saw and talked to Jack. Both Emma and Peter swore that if they were charged as accessories after the fact, they would defend them. Holly and Carl head home to see their son, whom no doubt missed them very much and the tired group heads to bed without a thought of birthday cake or how violated the place felt considering police officers had searched the area.

Emma brings her sister into her room, changes her and dresses her in a nightgown. She sighs heavily and cries a little bit as she puts the toddler to bed.

"I promise that we will do this over again," she whispers. She kisses her sister and lays her in the crib. "I will love you forever and always."

She then goes to the closet and removes two packages that were in the very back. She places them on the rocking chair, each one labeled with _To Sybil, With Love, Mother,_ and _Father_.

…

The following morning, Emma awakens to a loud commotion outside. She peeks through the window to see a large crowd of people gathered at their property line. They had signs that read;

 _ **Free Jack Dawson**_

 _ **Go J.D. Go!**_

 _ **Arrest Hockley!**_

Emma couldn't believe it, but she could not help but smile. When she got the morning paper there was her story on the front page with the headline:

 _ **Lawyer calls Justice for Jack Dawson**_

Her entire story has been printed in full glory and it's told in a way that makes Jack look like the hero he was meant to be. She knew it would not be long before the police would catch wind of this and bow to the public's demands. The public has already started to show their support, and she knew that as the story spreads, there would be more support and in fact, there might be riots at Cal's house, demanding the release of Rose.

She chuckles as she sits down to breakfast with Peter and Sybil.

"It's all about where you send the circus," she says happily, turning the page of the article.

…

However, it was already beyond what Emma had anticipated. As if in an instant, the entire city was trying to help Jack Dawson in any way they could. It went much faster, as if by some miracle, everything had changed.

Thousands of spectators and on-lookers packed overpasses along the road to catch any sightings of Jack. In a festival-like atmosphere, many are carrying and holding signs urging Jack to flee, cheering for him, and shouting excitedly, "Go J.D.! Go!"

The crowds would only grow as a small car pulls out of the city, towards the Hockley New York family mansion.

 _A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for the delay, but it's exams season. Fortunately, I only had one and now I'm back in black (so to speak) Here's an extra long chapter to make it up to Sam Fraser. And for BarryDennen12, thank you for being patient and I've incorporated your ideas into the story. Also, I am going to fix the timeline thing about Sybil's birthday. In the beginning I said that she was seven months, but in order for her to be born in November, she has to be six months in April while on the Titanic. Did anyone catch my ASOUE joke in here?_


	85. Chapter 84: All or Nothing

Chapter 84: All or Nothing

"Hold on Rose…" Jack hisses under his breath. He steers the car down the street out towards the richer parts of town. He didn't know where Cal lived, but he knew he had to get out of the main part of the city. Daylight is stretching across the landscape, reaching the tops of buildings with it's golden and orange glow. Most of the time, Jack would take a moment to watch the beauty of Mother Nature and be bathed in the warmth of the sun's glow, but without Rose, it would've felt empty and he didn't have time to waste… He was on a rescue mission and he was a wanted man. He was aware that by now the police would be looking for him, putting a warrant out for his arrest and probably spread some grandiose lies about him as well. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but the law had failed him. It had been unable to prove his innocence and it failed Rose and their child, the police were not doing their job to save them, instead of letting Cal keep them as his prisoners. They believed all the lies that the tycoon had told them and no matter how hard both Emma and Peter tried, they could not be extinguished, and he was kept in that holding cell.

He swallows a large lump in his throat thinking about his two best friends. No doubt they would have heard the news by now and he cannot imagine how they must be feeling. Betrayed, angry, sad, confused, and other negative emotions come to mind. If they felt deceived, he didn't blame them, after all, they were doing all they could to get him out of prison, legally and without consequences. For him to escape on his own basically demolished all the hard work they had done and… that he'd stolen their car to get away. He knew that they meant well, and they were doing their best, but sometimes the best is not enough, not enough to save his fiancée and unborn child.

He knew that his actions would have consequences, and no doubt he'd probably be put in jail for a long time, but to spend one more minute trapped in that cell, while Rose was in Cal's greedy and greasy little hands, he would have been driven absolutely insane. It was torture just being away from Rose, not knowing if she was safe or not, but to have the knowledge that Caledon Hockley, a man who had tried to kill them multiple times in the past, he knew he did not have any other choice. He'd hoped that Emma and Peter would understand someday soon.

He pushes the thoughts from his mind, he had to focus on finding Cal's home, his mansion no doubt, with the fanciest things one could ever imagine. A place filled with servants to be at his beck and call, rooms so vast that one could hold the most elaborate parties and a place to hold a helpless, pregnant woman.

As the 1910 Ford speeds through the streets where skyscrapers were reaching towards the morning sky and people were beginning to wake up and begin their morning routines, Jack noticed that the car was becoming slower and slower with every passing mile. He cursed to himself, knowing that it was running low on fuel. Additionally, his stomach growled; he had not eaten the prison dinner that had been given to him the night before and he was quite hungry. He wants to push on, but he has no idea where he is going, and he needed to keep his strength up if he was going to rescue Rose.

After much debate in his head, Jack pulls over to a service station that seemed far enough away that his escape would likely not have reached the people there yet.

He pulls up to the first pump and a friendly older looking gentleman in coveralls and wore a straw hat on his head stands up from his chair in front of his garage and walks towards the car.

"Fill'er up?" the man says in a gruff voice, a cigarette hanging between his teeth.

"Yes." Jack nods.

As the man begins his work on filling the vehicle, Jack steps out into the morning sun to stretch his legs. He tries to act as naturally as possible. He wasn't sure if this man would have found a paper or be listening to the radio yet, but he couldn't take any chances.

The elderly man was whistling to himself as he put the nozzle into the back of the car.

"Quite the ride you have there… 1910 I'm guessing?"

The young blonde man swallows, remembering what Peter and Emma had told him about their car.

"Yes."

"Did ye buy it used?"

"No, right off the assembly line."

"Impressive, not sure how a young fella like you could afford one."

"What do you mean?" Jack asks, keeping his eyes away from the man.

"I'm just sayin' that this kind of thing would cost a whole year's salary of a young man like yourself. You got a good job with the city kid?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's impressive, livin' the American Dream I suppose…"

The man takes a puff of his cigarette and Jack realizes that he hasn't had one of those in a long while. He felt his cravings come rushing back, he remembered all the times that he was stressed in the cell and how he wanted to smoke, but none were available to him. Now that he was free, he wanted one to relieve his stress for the upcoming task.

"Excuse me, sir," Jack asks.

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if I have one of your cigarettes?"

"You smoke?"

"Yes."

"Alright then," the old man reaches into the pocket of his coveralls and removes a pack of cigarettes. The cheap kind that Jack liked to buy as well. Jack takes one of the white cylinders and places it between his lips. The man then offers him a match, allowing the escapee to feel free and relieved of stress.

Jack leans against the car, inhales the chemicals and then expel them quickly. He coughs slightly after the first few puffs as it had been awhile since he'd smoked. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that repeated Emma's words about how bad cigarettes were for him. At this point, he didn't care and his health was the last thing on his mind.

Once he's more relaxed, Jack decides to ask the man as inconspicuously as he can about where he might find the Hockley mansion.

"Excuse me, sir?" Jack says after exhaling some smoke.

"Yes?"

"Do you happen to know where I might find the richer neighbourhoods, like the Rockefellers or the Hockleys?"

"Why? Yer not plannin' on robbin' them, are you?"

"No sir, I'm actually a reporter who is going to do some interviews for the paper about the lifestyles of the rich and powerful," he lies through his teeth.

"Really?"

"Yes, sir,"

"Well, I don't know about the Rockefellers, but the Hockley Mansion is about two miles south of here. It's surrounded by an orchard of apples and all those high trees and such. Real fancy place, do you have permission to go there?"

"Yes sir, the newspaper arranged all of it."

"What a lucky man you are, does a reporter pay well?"

"Fairly well."

"Alright then, she's all filled up for you… So, you want to take this road south in that direction…"

Jack hurries into the car and pulls out a pencil and paper. He jots down the man's directions exactly as he says them.

"Thank you, sir, I lost the original instructions my boss gave me. Left them at home and I was in such a rush this morning that I forgot them."

The old man nods and then grabs another cigarette.

"Awful early to be disturbin' em."

"Mr. Hockley prefers this as my interview will not interfere with his business affairs."

"I see, well that'll be 50 cents for the fill-up."

Jack digs into the glove compartment and finds enough money to pay for the filling.

"Thank you so much," Jack says, shaking the attendant's hand. "Also do you happen to know a good place to grab a bite to eat. I'd like to do so after my interview."

"Sure, there's a good eatery down that way, best home cooking you'll ever have around here."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, now be on your way fella."

"Thank you again," Jack says, climbing into the driver's seat.

"Have a safe journey," the old man says. He offers one more cigarette. "One for the road."

"Thank you once more," the young blonde man says, taking the cylinder and shoving it into his pocket.

"Good luck now," the attendant says, waving as Jack pulls away. "Nice young feller, real bright for his age…"

…

Jack follows the gas station attendant's instructions and soon he finds the place to eat. Knowing he needed some nourishment, he pulls over. He orders a large sandwich and coffee. He wolfs it down, so happy to have some real food and not the garbage that the prison was serving.

"Whoa slow down there, you're going to choke," the waitress says, serving him some coffee as well. "You look like you haven't eaten in days."

 _You have no idea,_ Jack thinks to himself as he slows down.

The waitress who is serving him looks to be around his age. She has her blonde hair pulled up into a bun and her green eyes admire him with a strong smile on her ruby lips. She can see that he is very handsome, and she blushes a few times as she walks past him serving other tables. His strong arms, his beautiful blue eyes, darker blonde hair, makes her want to take him home to meet her parents. She deliberately dropped her pencil once and bent over to pick it up to see if he'd notice and visit him more often at his table than all the others.

Jack caught on to this game almost immediately. He knew that girls would be attracted to him and he wished that the cops had not confiscated his wedding ring when he was arrested, that way girls would not be hitting on him like this. It had happened a lot when he was in Europe and over there, girls were willing to take their clothes off for him. And yet… he knew that Rose was the only one for him. No one could compare to the fiery redhead that had long since captured his heart. While the waitress did have Rose's green eyes, they were not as passionate nor as gentle as is beloved fiancée's. They had their own unique look that no doubt some man would be taken by and fall in love with, but that man was not him.

He paid the waitress and left a tip with money from the glove box. As he stood up to leave, the waitress slipped him her phone number on a napkin. Jack sighs and turns to the woman, knowing he would have to let her down gently. He takes her aside, so she would not embarrass herself any further.

"Thank you, Kate," he says as calmly as he can. "For your number, but I'm sorry. I've already been spoken for…" He hands the napkin back to her, placing it on her tray. "Save it for the man who will love you as I love my fiancée. He's out there, keeps your eyes wide open."

While Kate looks rather upset at the rejection, she admired the man's honesty. She fights back tears of embarrassment in her green eyes and forces a smile on her lips. She nods.

"Thank you," she says. "Have a nice day, good luck with your marriage,"

"Thank you," Jack says. _Hopefully, the second time will be the charm._

…

Finally, Jack makes it to the Hockley family mansion. It looks just as impressive as any other mansion. Painted white, with three stories high, columns that supported a grand front porch, tall windows and an elaborate garden that stretch out in front of it and the entire thing was surrounded by a wrought iron gate that had points reaching into the blue sky. It takes all his strength for Jack to not run, barge into the home, attack Cal and force him to release Rose. He knew Cal would have his staff around and they would no doubt come to his aid. Jack had to get to Cal when he was alone and easier to interrogate by force.

His heart is pounding against his ribs and it's hard for his mind to form a plan as anger and fury clouded it. The waiting would kill him, but he still had to be smart about this, otherwise, everything that he had done to this point will be for nothing.

He parks the car just outside one of the apple orchards that the gas station attendant mentioned, just close enough so that he and Rose could get away after he found her. He slips through the iron gate and travels along the perimeter, through hedges and behind trees in order to not be seen as easily. There was a gardener raking leaves but on the other side of the land. Eventually, Jack positions himself close to the door, behind a few hedges to give himself some cover and would wait for the perfect moment to strike.

…

The sun finally set behind the Hockley mansion and darkness crept up, casting sharp shadows everywhere. Jack was sweating profusely, and his heartfelt warn out from beating so hard.

The waiting had been excruciating, every part of his body ached so very heavily as he thought to Rose, somewhere in that house, helpless and at Cal's mercy. He tried to think about what would happen after he saved her. They would speed away as fast as possible, only after a happy reunion kiss, they would go to the police station, Rose would explain everything, and Cal would finally be arrested. Hopefully, then, Emma and Peter could help him get out of trouble for escaping, and then all of them would go home. They could finally all get married and then prepare for the birth of their baby. He thought about finally using that money to buy a house for their growing family. Not too far from where Emma and Peter lived, but it gave them their own space to celebrate their married life.

His mind went through the imminent victory that would come from this, it was worth the risk, Rose was worth every risk he had taken since he met her.

He shuffles into position as several of the servants comes out of the house, dressed in clothes and clearly on their way to either run errands or go home for the night. He hopes that they leave the door unlocked.

As they disappear along with the path, Jack finally uses all his pent-up adrenaline. He rushes to the door, opens it as quietly as possible, and slips inside. He ignores the fancy chandelier hanging above him and the imported rug at his feet. He listens for the voice… the infamous voice of Mr. Hockley.

"Riptide, would you please bring me the evening paper?"

The voice came from one of the rooms to his right. All Jack could hear now was his heartbeat. He enters the room that was completely dark, but it was adjoined to one that had the flickering of firelight. Jack realizes that this was Cal's library and as he stealthily goes across the floor, he grabs a fire poker next to the fireplace to use as a weapon.

Jack peers inside the next room and his heart jumps into his throat when he sees the slick black hair of the black-hearted man. He sits in a chair, smoke is arising, meaning he likely had a cigarette with him, with his feet up and a roaring fire going in front of him.

Jack knows he must be smart and very quiet and not just tear Caledon limb from limb. He goes across the floor as quietly as he can manage. He holds his breath and prepares to attack this monster.

He sneaks up behind Cal's chair and with all his strength, shoves the tycoon to the floor of the parlour. Cal rolls over and does his best

"As I live a breathe," Cal chuckles, ignoring the fire poker at his throat. "The gutter rat has come back."

"Where is she?" Jack demands, holding the fire poker up, preparing to use it as a weapon.

"Who?"

"You know who!" Jack snarls. "Where is Rose?"

"Rose? Rose?" Cal taunts, pretending he doesn't know the name. "I can't say that I can recall."

"CUT THE HORSE SHIT, I KNOW YOU HAVE HER!"

"And how would you know that?"

"I got your note… but it only confirmed what I already knew, only you would do something so low and evil to get what you want."

"So you're a jailbird now, what's that like?"

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" Jack hollers.

"And why would I do that…?"

Something strikes Jack on the back of the head and he collapses to the floor of the parlour, unconscious. Behind him is Mr. Hockley's manservant, holding a large candlestick.

"Perfect timing Riptide," Cal says, standing up to look at the filth now lying on his floor.

"I do hope I didn't hit him too hard," the man says.

"It won't matter for too long. The problem is if he escaped eventually the police are going to trace him here and we can't have them finding out anything, now can we?"

Riptide swallows. "No, we cannot sir."

"Well, let's get on with it then. Once he's restrained, I want you to pack my bags and bring the car around. All of us are going to take a little trip."

Cal smirks down at the unconscious gutter rat. "Both of them will end up where they should have gone in the first place."

 _A/N: What do you think Cal has planned? I'm back and I'm excited to post this new chapter thank you for the reviews and thank you to 87GN for pointing out the factual error, I will be sure to correct it._


	86. Chapter 85: Their Worst Enemy

Chapter 85: Their Worst Enemy

"Make sure that it's tight Riptide," Cal says. "Trust me, he's a strong man."

The three men are now in the basement, next to the cellar which held Rose, one of whom is unconscious and engaged to the woman on the other side. The other two are tying Jack's hands behind his back and his feet together.

"Yes sir," the manservant says with a heavy sigh. He then brings out a rag. "A gag too sir?"

"Not right now, let the two have a little reunion before we leave."

"Very well," Riptide nods.

Cal unlocks the cellar door and pulls the string to illuminate the tiny space. Rose is in the corner, curled up as best she can, trying to rest. She flinches slightly, knowing the sound of Cal's shoes against the concrete floor. She pretends to be asleep, hoping and praying that Cal would leave her and the baby alone for some much-needed rest.

Being under the tycoon's thumb has been nothing but hell. If she had indeed died by now, she thought hell was better than this place. The torture, the abuse, the torment of her and her unborn child was physically and psychologically damaging for her. She had tried to remain strong, take the pain that he inflicted on her… she knew she had to survive for her child and for Jack. She knew it would simply kill him if she died from this. While most of her strength had long since been drained from her body, the hope of the police, Jack, Emma, Peter, and everyone else she loved coming to her rescue kept her at least partially happy and sane… that and the movement of her baby. She knew that the boy or girl was feeling some form of their mother's pain, he or she kicked after it was over. It scared the mother-to-be, what if the baby was traumatized before it was even born. As unlikely as it seemed, could it have some abnormality or disability because of this? The thought horrified Rose and when she was left alone, she tried to stay calm and soothe the distressed fetus as best she could.

But with the light on, she knew what would happen next. She braces herself.

Instead, Cal lifts her chin roughly and forcefully removes the cloth gag from her mouth, nearly taking several teeth with the force.

"You sick twisted son of a…" Rose begins unloading all the unpleasantries she can think of on this man. Sure, she had said similar things to Riptide, but there were few saved especially for Cal. The words and obscenities came out of her mouth like she was spitting acid from her body. If felt liberating even joyful to tell her former fiancé exactly what she thought of him. She felt the greatest satisfaction of all time. She had waited so long for this moment.

For some strange reason, Cal takes the abuse and verbal garbage thrown at him by his captive, he does so without batting an eye. He is chuckling inside of himself as if Rose was giving him compliments that were stroking his ego instead of verbal threats and insults. He waits until Miss "Dawson" has worn herself out enough to stop and catch her breath. Once she's done, Cal kneels down and pulls her into a sitting position. With her hands and feet bound against the wall, this is harder than one might expect. Cal pinches Rose's cheeks between his fingers to the point that it hurts. Rose has no choice but to tear up in pain.

"Such ladies shouldn't say words like that," he taunts.

Rose tries to bite him, but Cal holds her face firmly in his grasp.

"Now, I'm sure the main reason I haven't broken you completely is that you have one thing… one stupid thing… hope. The hope that your precious Jack will come and rescue you, or the police or those bratty friends of yours. Well sweetpea, prepare to have your hopes dashed."

As if on cue, Riptide drags the unconscious and bound form of Jack into the cellar.

At first, Rose doesn't recognize him until she sees the blonde hair and she manages to gasp. Her eyes fill with tears as if instinctively.

"JACK!" she cries out in a muffled fashion. She twists her head, trying to fight Caledon's grasp. He finally releases her pretty little face, which would no doubt leave bruises afterwards.

Rose feels a surge of strength go through her as she fights against the ropes holding her to the cellar wall. She struggles in many directions in an attempt to free herself, to get to him, to wrap her arms around him, to kiss him… just to hold him again.

Cal enjoys watching Rose squirm and struggle, trying to get to the man who was just out of reach. Like holding a carrot out in front of a mule, knowing the stupid thing would never get it, but giving it that hope.

"What have you done to him?!" she demands, her wrists feeling like they were bleeding.

"We merely protected ourselves. This feeble-minded fool broke into my house and threatened me with a fire poker. He was going on and on, demanding that I release you and of course I had no idea what he was talking about…"

"He's still alive, Ma'me," Riptide offers gently as if to give Rose some form of comfort.

"But only for now. You see, this fool thinks that he can just break into my home and play the hero. He's a wanted criminal, an escaped convict, and this will no doubt bring the pigs here."

"Good!" Rose says, suddenly feeling confident. She knew about Jack's arrest, but she couldn't believe that he would risk his actual freedom and reputation in order to find her. In her heart, she knew he truly loved her and she truly loved him. There was never a doubt in either of their minds. Of course, most people prefer to have this affirmation at the altar of a wedding, and not while being held captive by a menacing steel tycoon. "You'll finally get what you deserve."

"And so, will you. Don't you think I'm smarter than that Rose? Your happy reunion will be short Rose, so I suggest you enjoy it while you can."

Cal then goes over, grabs extra rope, drags Jack's limp body over to the opposite side of the cellar and ties his enemy there. He felt so good about finally having Jack Dawson at his mercy. The man who had ruined his engagement and his the thought of him behind bars made him smile, ending Dawson, himself made him giddy and he had butterflies in his stomach. He had only framed Jack for the crimes in the first place in order to prevent him from interfering with Rose's abduction, plus it got Cal out of any legal charges as well. It was most delightful to separate the two of them, he knew how it was the worst form of torture of all. He imagined Jack rotting behind bars, unable to get to his precious Rose and the pathetic lawyer friends working tirelessly to free him. He thought the two younger fools with the bratty baby were like rats running in circles chasing their tails, unable to do anything to help. Going in an aimless direction, precious payback for them interfering in the first place. To see the couple as miserable as how the tycoon felt, it was an amazing feeling. To drain the hope from his former fiancee, make her suffer as he did, was just icing on top of the cake.

However, he had clearly underestimated how much Jack "truly" loves Rose that he really did break the law, escape from jail and travel all this way to try and rescue her. But, of course," Dawson was at that disadvantage again, Cal had connections, and while Lovejoy was deceased, he was likely approving of Caledon Hockley, his trusty charge's methods. Now that Jack was completely helpless, at this madman's mercy. Make the gutter rat feel the pain that should be felt by people of his class. He had meddled in the Hockley's life long enough and the thorn had to be removed.

The two free people leave the cellar to prepare for their trip, leaving the two lovers at opposite ends of the cellar, held captive by their worst enemy.

 _A/N: Sorry if this chapter is shorter. Please follow and review._


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